Skinny Love
by The Accident-Prone Klutz
Summary: And it sucks ten times more when all of your friends can read you like a book. Everyone knows I'm desperately in love with my best friend, with the exception of the stupid idiot. Woe is me. AU. Roxiri.
1. Chapter 1

**It needed to be done. It was just this constant nag in the back of my head. I couldn't help it!**** The plot bunny was being a bitch and planting little piles of poop-insanity in my head. And yeah, I suppose the need to write Roxiri had something to do with it as well. Hopefully this turns out to be a three shot. However if I go against my word (like I usually do), I guarantee this will be under ten chapters. I apologize beforehand for any typos. I didn't proofread (is lazy).  
><strong>

**Enjoy anyway! :)  
><strong>

**Pairing: **Roxas/Kairi

**Rating: **T (For mild language)**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 1<strong>  
><em>

_._

_.  
><em>

_Come on skinny love just last the year  
>Pour a little salt we were never here<em>

_._

_._

I couldn't exactly tell you the precise time I ended up falling in love with my best friend, Roxas. It could've been the time he won that ugly tiger for me at the school carnival; or the first time he brought chocolate cupcakes for me during that time of month; or even when he blew off one of his one night stands to hang out with me instead. I don't know. It just sort of happened.

When I first realized it, I threw a tantrum and attempted burning the stupid tiger, but my mother caught me before I got my hands on the lighter. It wasn't good – it _still_ isn't good – to be in love with Roxas Strife. He was Twilight Town's player, a girl charmer,_ manwhore extraordinaire_; he was all the synonyms one would find if they looked up _lecherous idiot_ in the thesaurus. I don't know why it came as a sort of shock that I developed these kinds of feelings for the kid.

I mean we've been best friends ever since we've been in diapers – okay since we've been in_ pull ups_. One of us was bound to grow the "Unrequited Best Friend Feelings" syndrome. I was the poor unfortunate soul to be diagnosed with said syndrome. And I suppose it's even worse for my particular case, considering Roxas's bad reputation with girls. Plus the fact that he does all the things that girls' parents like mine don't want their children associated with.

Doubly screwed, much?

But my parents trusted him. Because, like me, my parents have realized that since I am Roxas's best friend I would be forever glued to the _friend zone_ in our relationship. Some parents.

Speaking of parents, they would absolutely kill me if they knew I had allowed Roxas to persuade me into coming to this stupid party. I never come to parties. I'm not like that. I'm not outgoing and crazy like people see Roxas (I call it _stupidity_). I'm the quiet girl – the one who is currently using her bottle of alcohol she's pretending to drink, to hide from the drunken idiots stumbling over themselves. Oh look, Roxas is included in that idiot category. Why am I not surprised?

I watch from my seat on the couch, as he sidles up to the nearest girl who's thrashing about to the music – completely _wasted_. I roll my eyes and cross my legs over. This is the part I hate the most. Watching him with another girl. I know he's like that, but since my recent discovery it's only served to make me a mega, emotionally bipolar bitch.

He's pulling the girl against him and they both sway to the music, or at least he's trying to make an attempt (a pathetic one, really). The girl leans back and rests her head against his shoulder, stupid pink face directed towards the ceiling. His lean pale arms stretch out, giving him better access to rest his large hands on her hips and… and why the hell did I decide to come again?

My hand clenches tightly around the beer bottle and I don't realize it until my fingers start cramping. Angrily, I rise from my seat and storm out the nearest exit, bumping into random people. It's more annoying because they're drunk and have no respect for personal space.

I'm almost a foot away from the front door when I hear someone calling my name.

"Kairiiii!" It's his slurred voice and it only aggravates me more. Why did I come? Why, why, why?

I ignore him as he continues to call out for me. The door starts looking better and better as the seconds tick by. My fingers wrap around the doorknob and I yank open the door. The cool breeze hits my face in an instant and I immediately forget that I left my jacket on the couch.

But the door closes sharply behind me, muffling the music. That techno shit that really freaks me out.

I sniffle loudly and breathe out a quivering breath. I didn't even notice I began crying back there. Great. My eyes dart around the porch for any witnesses, no one is out here of course. It's the middle of December. In other words, it's too cold for the potheads. I reach up and quickly wipe my eyes. My hands are already freezing as is the rest of my body. God I just really want to go home. I have the keys to my mom's Toyota. I could just dump the beer and sneak off to the car, put the keys in the ignition and drive away… But no I couldn't.

I can't exactly leave Roxas. I was the one that brought him here and I'm not comfortable with leaving him here, partly because it's dangerous, mostly because I don't want him staying the night with a girl.

I sigh, and settle for sitting down on the cold wooden step. I lean back against the rail, and hug myself to keep warm. I don't want to go back in there. Why did I come to this stupid party? I realize that I know the answer to that question but I refuse to acknowledge it, because I hate feeling like a fucking slave to my emotions. I must be some kind of masochist, I conclude. Why else would I have come, knowing full-well that this was the sort of thing I would see?

I feel another oncoming sigh. I can see my breath as it blows out of my mouth. It just only intensifies the shivering temperature.

He's an idiot. I hate him.

I know this isn't true – well the latter part to my statement. It's just been getting harder to be around him lately. It's hard to be around the person you're in love with – having your feelings grow into something more and more only to realize it's doomed to failure. It's depressing to be around him. And yet just the thought of spending time with him excites me. I don't know which feeling I hate more.

And it sucks ten times more when all of your friends can read you like a book. Everyone knows I'm desperately in love with my best friend, with the exception of the stupid idiot. Woe is me.

My head is starting to hurt. Maybe it was because I did drink a little. Just a little. Just to get me distracted. God even being around him is making me reckless. And I wanted to go driving? Geez, Kairi what the hell's wrong with you?

The sound of music pours into my frozen ears and then it muffles again. It barely dawns on me that someone has just come outside to join me. Yippee. I curl inwards to myself, trying to indicate that I don't want company. But I suppose it's a futile attempt anyway, practically the entire house is off their rockers.

A loud burp echoes through the cold air and my body stiffens. I recognize the person, even if I can't see them.

"Why'd you run off like that?"

My head tilts upwards to meet the blonde, in all of his glory, staring down at me. Roxas Strife gives me a frown, and reaches up to run the same hand that was on that girl, through his hair. He lets out another unattractive burp, ambling his way towards me.

"I just needed some air." I mumble, hating the way my voice quivers. He raises an eyebrow and plops down in a seat next to me. His blue eyes seem abnormally focused and I suddenly realize that maybe this kid isn't as drunk as I thought he was. The moonlight glints against his pale skin and he almost looks like a statue. His blue eyes squint in my direction and they literally look black in this light. The blonde hair sweeps around his eyes, adding to that mysterious look. It makes my heart race with excitement.

One of the many involuntary body reactions Roxas can cause. He's beautiful. And yeah, sure he was hot/cute or whatever adjectives used to describe someone being attractive, but Roxas held this marvelous quality to him. That kind of grand quality the statue of David, or those Greek god statues held. He can be a Calvin Kline model if he wanted to, but I would never admit that to his face – his head is already so swollen.

The sculpted lines of his jaw shift vertically, and his full lips move. After a moment of blatant staring, I realize – with a flushed face – that he was still indeed talking to me.

"Um, what?" I try to salvage as much pride as I can from that blunder. His lips twitch into a patronizing smile, which only makes the red in my cheeks darken.

"You forgot to bring your jacket out with you, didn't you?" He questions, he's still being a condescending prick, as he brings the jacket out from around him and hands it to me. I glare, as I snatch it away, inside however, my stomach is doing somersaults.

"Thank you." I say, wrapping the jacket around me. It's warm from being inside and I'm so incredibly grateful that I'm wearing it now. He lets out a low chuckle, before grabbing my abandoned bottle of beer and taking a swig. He lets out another burp, scooting closer to me. I can smell the alcohol on his breath as he wraps an arm around me. I tense up immediately. I feel frozen all over again and it has nothing to do with the temperature outside.

"Um…" I feel uncomfortable. Maybe it's because I wasn't expecting this or maybe it's the fact that he's putting all of his fucking weight on me. I manage to squeeze out from under his arm, and he falls towards the rail, hitting his head.

"God, you could've warned me you were moving." He complains, rubbing his head with a sour expression. He frowns again, as he takes yet another long drink.

"Sorry." I utter, wiping the back of my jeans awkwardly. His expression is still rather annoyed as he stares up at me, leaning his head against the rail. He brings the bottle to his lips as he eyes me. My face flushes under his heavy analyzing gaze. His eyes squint and I can feel him reading me – or at least trying to. As far as I know, he doesn't speak _Kairi_.

"What's up with you?" He questions, his eyebrows knitting together in frustration.

"What do you mean?"

"I dunno… you've just been acting different lately." He answers, irritation lacing his voice. I hesitate. Okay so maybe he wasn't an idiot after all. My throat dries up suddenly and I'm left speechless. What do I say to that? Do I lie to him?

Maybe I should've just drunk the whole bottle.

My eyes dart away from his unrelenting stare. They lower until they're resting on his neck. It's safe. Well safe to talk to. I can't expect much from a neck right? It doesn't talk, it'll just be there and occasionally move whenever he talks but that's – wait what the hell is that! My gaze zeroes in on the pink smudge that looks suspiciously like lips pasted on the left side of his neck.

Why that little –

"What's it to you?" I snap, feeling just as irritated as the blonde looks.

"There! You're doing it again." He sputters. I feel my cheeks color considerably and I have to turn around so he won't see. I know I'm practically shining like a Halloween glow stick.

"Doing what?" I growl, staring straight at the empty street in front of me. It's easier to form coherent thoughts and speech when I don't look at him… like at all.

"You're being all un-Kairi." He whines.

"Un-Kairi? That's not even a real word Roxas." I growl. I can feel him roll his eyes. "And how would you even know? You seemed pretty distracted by that stupid bimbo with the boobs! Ugh! And so what if I'm feeling a moody? It's a free country! I'm entitled to feel anything I want to. We learned that in Government, not that I expect you to know that. It's not like you pay attention in that class anyway, you've probably got your eyes glued to your stupid phone." I huff, and stuff my hands in my jacket pocket. I'm riled up and I know I should calm down, but things are just pouring out of my mouth like word vomit. "But I'm not feeling moody okay! I'm not. I'm just… not having fun. No, it's not because of the bimbo, so just get that idea out of your head. Why did you bring me here? Do you realize I could be grounded for life if my parents found out? And I doubt all that sweet charming talk will dissuade my mother when she's angry… and geez, did you have to dance with that girl? She was totally a – a – what do they call those girls in that stupid show you watch? – oh, a _grenade_, that's it! She was a grenade, Roxas. You could do so much better. I don't understand why you set your standards so low. You should just settle down with someone like…"

I stop short. Crap. I've said too much. I hate that about myself. Once I get angry I'm just sort of this unstoppable force. I suck in a deep breath, feeling my face warm, and sharply turn around. The words are on my tongue – the words that'll save my skin before things get incredibly awkward. My mouth is even open and I'm just about to let it all spill out, when I notice I don't have to.

The jerk is fast asleep against the porch rail. Are you kidding me? So he was drunk the entire time!

I don't know if I should feel pissed off or relieved.

I settle for the latter. I mean, I can't really stay mad at him. Not when he looks so freaking adorable like that. I sigh, and return to the steps, taking a seat. His body is warm next to mine, and I can't help but scoot closer.

"Seriously, if I wasn't in love with you I would've already killed you by now."

.

.

I put the car on park and wait outside for Roxas. It's Monday and I really hate to be late. But knowing him, he's probably just got out of bed. I lean against the seat and drum my fingers against the steering wheel.

I didn't get home until around midnight. That was still early – according to Roxas.

Speaking of the idiot, I can see him bustling out the front door. He looks dead tired and upon closer inspection his eyes are bloodshot. He's still wearing the same clothes from last night and I can't help but roll my eyes. He could've at least changed.

Once he opens the passenger door, a wave of Axe hits me full on and I almost choke.

"There's a thing called a shower, you should consider taking one." I cough out, rolling down the windows immediately. He scowls, moving in to sit down and throwing his bag down.

"Ha. Ha." He mumbles sarcastically, digging into his backpack and pulling out his sunglasses. I hate the way my first reaction is to swoon. God, you're such an idiot Kairi.

"Goodmorning." I greet anyway, ignoring his sour mood. "I brought you coffee."

Because you're a sucker and I knew you'd be hung over.

Immediately his scowl switches into a bright smile. He happily grabs the mug that's logged in the cup holder and holds it in both hands reverently. He shoots me a thankful glance.

"You're the best!" He exclaims.

I start the car before he notices the way my face has turned a ridiculous crimson.

The car ride to school is unusually silent. Unusually, because most of the time Roxas would turn the radio on right about now. My eyes shift towards him but then I quickly look away. He's staring back at me. Okay this was new.

My face heats up in embarrassment. Why, of all days, did I choose now to not do my hair and make up? I cough uncomfortably and focus my attention on the road ahead of me.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Hmm?"

"Why are you staring?"

"I'm not staring."

I feel like shooting him a glare. I'm not an idiot. I know when someone is staring and he was _definitely_ staring. I scoff and don't respond. But I can still feel his stupid, idiotic… _gorgeous_ eyes on me. It's a long and difficult drive to school, but somehow I manage to pull up into the school's parking lot. Thank god.

I jump out of car once I turn it off, grabbing my bag from the back seat. Roxas is quick to follow. He closes his door and I set the alarm on the Toyota. I was lucky that my mom didn't catch me sneaking back in last night or else I would've been car-less. And walking to school in the cold was sort of a death wish in Twilight Town.

I wrap my scarf tightly and bury my hands in my pockets. I let out a short breath, watching as it forms in the cold.

The late bell is going to ring soon and I really want to get inside – partly because I hate being late and because I want to be somewhere warm. But I know Roxas is stalling. I watch – with a perfectly disguised annoyed expression – as he gulps the rest of the coffee.

He lets out a satisfied 'ahh' and wipes his mouth, smiling devilishly.

"Thanks for the coffee _Cherry_," Roxas says, dropping the mug into my hands. I blush angrily. I really hate when he calls me that. It's a stupid name and I know he's making fun of me because of my hair. Just because it's a ridiculous color. And isn't as nice and perfect as his meticulously spiked hair (even if he did have bed hair today).

He pauses when he's beside me, and leans down. "_And just so you know,_ _I was __**awake**_."

.

.

**Reviews are lovely by the way.**

**Also the song is "Skinny Love" by Bon Iver**


	2. Chapter 2

**Yeah. Geez. I _should_ be updating SAS... but... god, sometimes you can't fight the power of Roxiri. I'm seriously having way too much fun with this. Why does angst feel so good to right and so wrong to read? Why! Dramatics aside, I've updated and I think this is going to turn out to be more than three chapters long (is sorry). But it will still be less than ten! I promise you! I apologize beforehand for any typos/spelling and/or grammatical errors (did not proofread).  
><strong>

**Anyway, enjoy.**

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

_I tell my love to wreck it all  
>Cut out all the ropes and let me fall<em>

.

.

Still Awake. Still Awake. STILL FUCKING _AWAKE_?

"What?" I sputter out quite unattractively. His last comment still hasn't sunk in. He was still awake. Awake. What is this word? Awake? It had never sounded so foreign to me. Is it French? My head is beginning to hurt as wave after wave of confusion just crashes through the synapses of my brain. The little Kairi's in my head run around scrambling, trying to find the word. _Awake_. And connect to it my current situation. If he was awake. He was awake then he heard…

"Oh god." I cry out. No. No. NO! My hands search my pockets looking for something – anything, really – to bang my head with. Maybe if I hit it hard enough I'll wake up from this horrible nightmare. Or lose consciousness at the very least. I'm distracted (understatement) that I don't notice him at first. He doesn't exist in my current state of panic. The only thing registering in my head is a solution to get myself dug out of this grave I've buried myself in. That's what I do. Kairi, the problem solver is my name!

I just have to think. Think. Oh wait. Did I say that out loud? My eyes anxiously glance up to find evidence of my further embarrassing blunder. Except he isn't there. I'm met with the back of his perfect blonde hair. The idiot is walking away from me. I'm torn between running up to him and sprinting in the other direction. Roxas doesn't look back at me as he continues to make his way towards the school's door. He doesn't make a move to wait for me either.

Not that I would've followed him. I'm frozen like a Popsicle on the spot. One of those cherry popsicles, because I'm quite sure I've turned a dark red.

The late bell sounds through the parking lot and I feel like a statue. I don't know what to do – where to go. I can't… I can't possibly go to school and be around him now. Especially now that he knows. It's going to become so weird and awkward around us. He won't talk to me anymore. Or worse, he'll treat me like a pathetic sap and pity the shit out of me.

The keys are in my jacket pocket. I could just turn back around and start the car. I can just drive home – no. The neighbors will see and tell my parents. Fine. I can drive to… I hold that thought, and dig through my bag, pulling out my wallet. I have about five dollars in cash. Crap. No gas.

Ah, what am I thinking? I'm a good girl. I don't do that. I don't ditch no matter how uncomfortable I know the school day is going to be. I sigh and stuff my wallet back into my bag. I wouldn't ditch even if was dared too. Why was I even considering it?

I put my shivering hands in my pockets and slowly make my way towards the school, already dreading the day.

.

.

When the bell for second period rings I can feel the oncoming nervous shivers crawl over my body. It's Government class and from my line of sight, I can already see the familiar blonde head. He's playing with his pencil and shooting that girl Olette a playful wink. Okay that was normal… and so was that bubbling anger forming in my stomach.

Carefully, I make my way towards the seat next to him, not without shooting that brunette bitch a glare. Scooting my chair closer to the desk, I set my bag on the desk – despite the teachers disdain for bags on the desk (he thinks we're all secretly texting or something). I don't say anything. What would I even say anyway?

He ignores me for a good five minutes, continuing to shoot that stupid girl more flirty looks. I huff and lean against my hand, glowering at the desk. So maybe I wasn't expecting this. Maybe it's better than talking to him about…

"So, Cherry, did you do the project?" His voice breaks me from my concentrated glare. It comes as a shock that I don't know what to say at first. So I just settle for a confused, "What?"

He regards me with a raised brow, before smiling that ridiculously cute smile. He points towards the board and I follow the direction of his finger. My eyes scan the board reading the message that's messily scrawled with a red marker: Bill of Rights Project due Monday.

Of course I did it. Why wouldn't I do it? In fact Roxas didn't help me with squat when I stayed up all night two days ago trying to complete our project. Roxas knows this, why would he even ask such a stupid question? I open my mouth to give him an annoyed retort, when the look on his face makes the words die out in my throat.

His blue eyes are narrowed and they dart all around my face. There's something different about them. It reminds me vaguely of last night, when they looked almost black in the moonlight. I feel my face slowly start to heat up under his heavy gaze. Because that's what it is, it's heavy. Like a hot summer day, beating down against my Popsicle self. I can feel myself melt. His staring doesn't last long, but god, I can feel my whole body trembling weakly.

I don't have time to answer his question, because he's back to talking to Olette. It gives me a chance to catch my breath and settle my crazed heartbeats. It gives me enough time to calm down, and then get mad all over again at seeing him talk to her.

He doesn't talk to me much after that. And if feels painfully… _normal_. He's acting completely normal and there's zero awkwardness or pity radiating off of him. It kind of throws me off. And if I was being truly honest, it sort of made me upset. What the hell is going on?

It's worse because I have no idea what to say. What to tell him. Should I bring up last night, even if I really _really_ don't want to?

.

.

My next classes do not serve to comfort my obvious – well – _discomfort_. I only shared two other classes with the blonde and in both the subject of the previous night's shenanigans was never brought up. I would have immediately believed that the idiot had completely forgotten that he brought up if it had not been for that occasional weird look he would shoot me. I _knew_ he knew, which made things even more awkward. And if I was being truly honest it sort of hurt.

I let out a quick sigh when I find my seat in my English class. Finally I was in a class where I didn't have to see that orderly windswept, blonde hair. I pull out my things and sink into the hard, plastic chair. My eyes move around the room and land on the teacher who looks close to being dead on the wooden desk. Phew. This was what I wanted – time to reevaluate the entire situation. I'm Kairi, the fucking solution maker. There's solution to everything.

Mentally, I list out the things that are pretty obvious and in plain sight: Roxas knows of my ridiculous and embarrassing, not to mention _stupid_ feelings… er right. Two, he's not helping my situation by bringing it up and putting it away like a toy, and three I'm too much of a chicken shit to actually do anything.

I sigh and bring a hand to my forehead, rubbing it gently. Seriously however way I look at this, I can't seem to find a proper solution – well a solution that doesn't include packing up my belongings and moving to Alaska as fast as I can.

Kairi the solution maker has epically lost her title.

"Hey Kairi." My eyes immediately snap towards the sound of the voice. It's Sora – Roxas's older brother – who's leaning against my desk casually. He beams at me and suddenly I feel like sinking further into the chair.

They almost look exactly the same, if not for the hair and their skin tone. Sora is golden and tan from being out in the beach for hours during the day (he works as a life guard). Roxas is pale and never goes near a beach. Sora's dark chocolate brown hair is a disarray of messy spikes, while Roxas always makes sure his hair is nice and neat. Sora is generally the nicer of the two brothers, while Roxas is the more… well, you know.

And Sora – unlike his brother – is quite blatantly infatuated with yours truly.

I inwardly groan as the brunette dopily takes a seat next to me. It's not like I think he's ugly or weird or whatever. I just don't like him _that_ way. He _should_ be the guy I like. He's nice, sweet, has apparently attractive genetic make-up (hah). He's not superficial or conceited (like that stupid idiot). But he's just not what I want. And sometimes he doesn't take a hint. Clearly I've made my feelings known – or lack of feelings in this case – towards him. And _clearly_, he knows of my existing (stupid) feelings for his brother.

"Hey, Sora." I greet quietly – if not weakly. I really don't want to have to deal with him, on top of all that problem solving I'm trying do to. He grins when I respond and I look away awkwardly.

"So did you go to the party yesterday?" He asks casually, turning in his chair so he's fully facing me.

"I did actually."

He knows this. He was the one that opened the front door when I went to pick Roxas up last night.

"I didn't see you there." He continues, as if he doesn't realize how much of an idiot he's made himself seem. I inwardly sigh. Seriously, I don't have time to deal with this. This useless chewing the fucking fat type of chat. "Are you sure you were – "

"Is there something I can help you with, Sora?" I interrupt, sounding harsher than I initially intended. He visibly flinches. His round – ridiculously similar towards his brother's – eyes narrow slightly and a pout forms on his lip. It's kind of pathetic, really. He looks like I just kicked his puppy or something. But it still makes a small pool of guilt form at the pit of my stomach at his hurt expression. I really am pushover sometimes.

Before I can come up with a reasonable apology for my rude behavior, I hear a soft coughing towards the left. An icy chill slivers down my spine. I recognize the voice. Courtesy of my awesome, super human hearing. Kidding.

I slowly turn in my seat to find myself face to face with best friend number two. Namine. Her pale blue eyes focus in on me and another chill runs throughout my body as I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I hate when she does that. That hard staring – like she's reading my mind. Her lips are held in a tight frown, as her eyes dart from Sora to me.

Great this day was just getting worse and worse.

See, Namine kind of – was sort of obsessed with Sora. Okay, _obsessed_ might not be the most appropriate word. She liked him. And whatever. I don't really see what she sees, but I suppose I have to be grateful for the fact that she was never interested in Roxas. Which is pretty weird now that I think about it.

I met her when Roxas and I were in the third grade. She was the oddball in the class. Never talking, until I was partnered up with her. I remember being so nervous and I babbled like an idiot, until she told me to shut up that was quickly followed by a number of apologies. I'd find out later that the reason she never talks is because she's ridiculously shy, well, around people she doesn't know.

"Hey Namine!" I greet her with much more enthusiasm than the brunette sitting on the other side. The girl's eyes rest on me for a careful second, evaluating the conversation she interrupted. I know she's trying to figure out what I'm thinking, being around Sora. It annoys me because that sort of insecurity puts a strain in the trust of our friendship. But I let her do her thing anyway. It's not like I can stop her from looking at me suspiciously.

Finally after what feels like hours, she waves softly. Her voice is hidden behind her closed lips, partly because we're in a room full of people, mostly because Sora's in the vicinity. I know her. And I recognize the blush that's slowly forming on her pale skin when Sora acknowledges her.

I wait for her gaze to relent but it doesn't.

I have no idea what's going on in her mind when her eyes narrow. But I have this suddenly eerie feeling that she's not focusing on the little spat with Sora anymore. Big blue orbs sweep across my face reading my expression, and a crease forms between her brows as she knits them together.

The crease disappears as something akin to realization encroaches her expression. She lifts her hand and points at her bracelet. It was a gift from Roxas on her seventeenth birthday. I would _know_ (not because I was jealous or anything).

I shoot her a puzzled look. One of her eyebrows rises, before she shakes her head. And then it hits me, she's figured it out – what's been bugging me. Well, she's figured out _who_ exactly was making me look like a miserable sap. I frown at her and roll my eyes. Sometimes I really, really hate how easily people can read me – especially her.

It annoys me, but I still feel a small wave of relief at the concerned frown she sends my way.

Sora is completely left out of our whole unspoken exchange.

.

.

Namine doesn't need to ask. I know she's observant and will catch on to the thing between Roxas and I – or lack of said thing.

It's lunch time now and the panic from this morning has morphed itself completely into anger. Roxas has not said a word to me all day since this morning. He isn't exactly avoiding me, but he's not talking to me either. I mean who does that? I feel like a fish that's been tricked into biting onto the bait of a hook. And then once I'm out of the water I find out the bait was one of those stupid cheese balls. I mean, it could've at least been a worm! That only proves what a stupid fish I am.

My face heats up in anger. And I can feel my chest constrict, once I spot my best friend. He's the center of attention right now. I watch from my table, as he throws his head back and lets out a loud laugh. He's surrounded by a horde of girls. It's like this every day. Except today it hurts a hundred times more. It could be because of last night, because I inadvertently confessed my feelings. But I really think it's because every so often, he'll shoot me a smug grin.

He's never done _that_ before. It's almost as if he's purposely rubbing it in my face. Rubbing the fact that I want something I can't have.

The room is starting to get hot, and I can feel my eyes stinging. I don't understand what's going on. For the first time in my life, I look at him and I absolutely don't recognize him. He's never treated me like _this_.

I'm rising from my seat before I know what I'm doing. The food tray in my hand drops harshly onto the table. I reach for my bag roughly, and push myself away from the table. My blurry eyesight is set on the cafeteria exit. It's my safe zone. I can see the shining beacon of light calling to me to get the hell out of this place. I'm almost there, when I feel a harsh tug pulling me back. I know who it is. I can recognize the large hands as they wrap around my wrist.

"Where're you going, Kairi?" Roxas asks when I turn around. His hand is tightly wrapped around me, and it's completely pointless to struggle. I don't want to cause a scene.

"I just need some air." I mumble out desperately. I know my eyes are teary and I wish he would let me go so he didn't have to see me. "Let go, please."

He relents, releasing my wrist. I quickly fix my bag over my shoulder and storm out of the cafeteria. But not alone, I can hear his stubborn footsteps as he trails after me.

"Wait! Kairi, slow down, where are you going?" He asks the same question. I can feel the tears finally overlap my eyelids and begin to stream down. I hate this. I just want to get out of here as quickly as possible. I don't want to see him. Not when he's acting like this. Like that smug idiot that everyone knows and loves, except for me. His voice sounds innocent and curious when he asks that question and it only pisses me off. Like, seriously, how dare he even act like that! I fucking hate fakes.

The anger in my stomach boils with rage. It's irrational – my thinking, my actions. I know I'm going to explode soon. I'm an emotional mess right now and it's not safe for anyone to be in the same vicinity as me. Especially the cause of my emotional instability.

"Kairi, hello – "

"Shut up!" I snap, whirling around so fast that he almost crashes into me. "I can't believe you would just do that to me!"

"What are you talking about?" He questions, backing up a safe distance. He raises his eyebrow in that patronizing way – it makes me so angry I have this sudden urge to slap him.

"You – you know!"

He knits his eyebrows together, and crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn't respond so I continue. "You're just throwing yourself around at any girl, in front of my face, when you know very well that I – that I have feelings for you." Okay, despite my anger I can still feel the embarrassment underlying that statement. It's the first time I purposely said it to his face – while I knew he was awake. Roxas's expression turns blank. Both of his eyebrows rise so high, they are almost hidden beneath his blonde bangs.

"So it is true." He remarks thoughtfully.

"Of course it's true!" I growl, stomping my foot for good theatricality. Roxas uncrosses his arms, and walks slowly closer to me. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and regards me casually. His lips tilt into a half smile – actually it's more of a smirk.

"Kairi, you have to know," He starts off slowly, his black-like eyes darting across my face. "That I'm not going to stop being me just because you have _feelings_ for me."

The anger immediately washes away. But I don't think I heard correctly.

"W-what?"

Roxas sighs, the smirk that he's wearing falls away. That look that I had seen earlier in Government class reappears across his pale face. And for some inexplicable reason I can feel my chest sink.

"This is who I am and frankly I don't care if you have feelings because it's not going to change who I am."

_I don't care if you have feelings… I don't care if you have feelings … I don't care…_

"This is different." I hear myself say. I don't know why his words sound so weird to me. What the hell was I expecting? Him to confess his undying, secret love for me as well? This wasn't one of those stupid clichéd, teenage love story.

This was so much worse.

.

.

**Poor Kairi? :/ **

**Anyway, reviews are tender to my soul (and they make it warm n' fuzzy). Song is still the same! Check it out!  
><strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Well I didn't expect to update this today. It's a little on the short side but it is here! I don't know why I find _Roxiri_ so much easier to write than any other pairing - oh right - because it's awesome! Anyway, I won't bore you with my lame disclaimers. I don't even know why I bother writing these. **

**But I guess this can be my tiny Christmas gift to all my reviewers! Thanks so much for reading! **

**ENJOY (Merry Christmas)**

**.**

**.  
><strong>

**Chapter 3**

**.**

_I told you to be patient  
>I told you to be fine<br>I told you to be balanced  
>I told you to be kind<br>_

_._

_._

Popsicle Kairi takes over. My body stays in that same ridiculous shock mode as I watch him stalk back into the cafeteria. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and he's walking with that stupid strut that has my heart breaking with each step.

_I don't give a crap. I don't fucking care. I don't._

The words can't translate smoothly in my own mind. They can't be applied or even said back to him. Maybe it's because I won't mean them. But I think it's really because my jaw feels like it's been screwed shut. And my teeth have been super glued together, while someone is sewing my lips together. No screw that, I couldn't even make a sound if I wanted to.

When the doors open and shut, I slowly feel my icy self melt. Painfully slow. I can feel my body shiver despite the warm room temperature. But then I quickly realize that I'm not shivering, I'm just shaking – really badly.

Maybe I'm going into shock. The room gets fuzzy and I can't register exactly where I am anymore. Is this real? Did this really just happen right now?

My breathing is shallow and I try to regain it evenly. Calm down Kairi. Seriously. This is no big deal. No big deal that the love of your life (bleh) rejected you and basically kicked you while you were already down.

I take a deep quivering breath and hold it in for five seconds. Breathe. In. Out.

I don't know how long I stood there in the hallway breathing like a person who was seconds away from drowning. I must look like an idiot. But that thought doesn't really faze me at this point. My body has stopped shaking and I'm convinced I've calmed down. Well until I start getting this sick feeling in my stomach.

I realize in my breathing fit that this must be real – imaginary life wouldn't hurt this much. My chest begins to tighten with this dull ache. That kind of pain that was similar to someone peeling a band-aid really slowly.

"Are you okay?"

My eyes quickly flit towards the source of the voice, alarmed. I recognize the voice and as soon as I see the familiar disarray of brown spikes I can feel the blood drain from my face. Sora.

Oh god could this day get any worse?

The brunette stares at me. He has that worried expression on his pretty little face, the face that looks so similar to _his_. I don't even try to bother the oncoming water works that were bound to pour from my unshed tears. His face is starting to look blurry anyway.

That's good. I don't have to look at his stupid face then. Or his stupid eyes that look like freaking clones of his brother's.

He steps closer to me and I'm so upset that I don't bother to tell him to get out of my personal space. I feel his hand, as he places it gently on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. I don't back away, so he takes it as an invitation to place his other hand on my left shoulder as well.

My head feels like a ton of bricks – actually it feels like it's been _hit_ by a ton of bricks.

"Hey, what's the matter?" his voice is soft and dripping with concern. It's smothering and suffocating.

"I-I just I…"

"Do you want to go home?" He asks kindly. For the first time in my life, I'm so convinced that he's not as big of an idiot as his brother.

.

.

Sora drives me home in my own car, opting to walk back to pick up his Ducati (yeah, I know, he'd be the last person I expected to drive that kind of bike). He's silent; his dark brown brows pulled together as he taps his fingers against the steering wheel. The waterworks have calmed down considerably, and I'm just as silent – trying to subtly stare at him with puffy, red eyes. I quickly do a scan of his profile, trying to read his expression, since he has not said a word since he found me in the hallway. My eyes rake in his brooding face. It doesn't exactly suit the happy-go-lucky brother.

However, I grudgingly have to admit that the brunette is kind of sort of beautiful like his brother. Not Calvin Kline status, but maybe Banana Republic – you know, those shaggy haired beach models that are always holding surfboards?

I almost feel like laughing out loud at that thought. Almost, until I remember exactly where I'm at and who I'm with. It's not that Sora's the worst company ever it's just… okay well he is kind of the worst company ever. It's personal – _entirely_ personal. If he wasn't such a lovesick idiot, who always sends me wounded puppy looks whenever I brush him off, maybe, just _maybe_ he'd be okay to hang out with.

I freeze suddenly as that thought hits me. Did I look _that_ pathetic to Roxas as well?

"What has my brother done this time?" Sora's voice sounds so loud in the quiet car, I nearly jump.

"Why do you assume it's him?" I ask petulantly, because Kairi, the lovesick idiot, _would_ defend Roxas's honor… even if he is an asshole. Sora grips the steering wheel tightly and I realize he must think the same thing.

"Isn't it always?"

I'm silent. Because as much as I hate it, Sora does have a point.

"Why do you do this to yourself Kairi?" He asks. As if he knows me. It kind of pisses me off that Sora thinks he can talk to me this way. He has no idea – no clue the depth of my feelings. I don't respond – well I don't respond vocally, but glare outside the window and let out a string of curses inside my head instead. "This is Roxas. You must have known what you were getting yourself into. He's – "

"I know okay?" I mutter. I'm really not in the mood for a _Sora_ lecture. For the first time in this ridiculously horrible day, luck is on my side because the car magically appears in my driveway. The brunette parks the car and turns the keys in the ignition, shutting the Toyota down.

I almost consider jumping out of the passenger seat but I wait until Sora makes the first move, because hello, this is _my_ car… My parents' car, I mean. But he's just sitting there, keys in his hand as if waiting for me to make the first move.

"I know you know." Sora's voice is quiet, I almost don't hear it, despite the silence from the absent engine sound. "I just think you don't realize that… there are other choices for you out there. You don't need to be attached to my brother forever, just because you feel obligated to."

"I don't feel obligated." _I love him._

"Kairi, Roxas is … selfish and reckless and –"

"What are you trying to say?" I snap.

Sora is silent for a moment. I know he's looking at me now, but I refuse to look at him. Because I'm pretty sure I'm going to start bawling my eyes out again.

"He's not going to change – not even for you. You realize that by now, don't you?"

His words hit me harder than I would have really liked them too. I know that – I knew that from the very beginning. I know that it's going to hurt and I'm going to be forever in pain if I choose this path, but despite all of that in the end it almost feels worth it. Roxas _is_ worth it, even if he isn't really worth it.

"I'm not trying to change him." I murmur absently. I take a quick peek at Sora, only to find him shooting me a dubious glance.

"Maybe you should stop chasing something that's out of reach, and just look at what's right in front of you." He suggests. I can see a small flush appear on his tanned face and it doesn't serve to lighten my mood. I know what he's trying to do – to charm me. The Strife brothers were known for their irresistible charms. But I can't exactly look at the Banana Republic model without thinking of the Calvin Kline one.

And plus his words kind of piss me off. That's a pretty hypocritical statement, now that I think about it. How can he say that to me, when best friend number two is hopelessly in lust – er love – with him?

"I'll always be here for you." Sora continues.

"Maybe you should take your own advice." I say coolly, before picking the keys from his hands, and getting out of the car.

.

.

My phone rings with a text message and I know it's him. I just know it is. This isn't usually the time he texts me. Roxas is a horrible texter – a _selfish_ one. Those type of people who talk to you only when they want to. So the fact that this is an early text is a sign.

I look at my phone briefly. My fingers are itching to open the message and soak in each of his words, because that's what a pathetic sap like Kairi would do. I'm so tempted, but I refuse to. My pride is too big.

I toss my phone back on the nightstand, and roll back into bed. It's been like this for the past two hours.

_At least the crying stopped._

And at least the idiot hasn't tried doing something stupid, like try to barge through my bedroom door.

I don't know if someone really hates me, or if I just have bad luck, because in the next second I can hear a commotion going on outside my bedroom. I hear his voice before the knocking on my door. He's fighting with my mother – or in his words he's trying to sweet talk her.

"She really doesn't want to see people today." I hear my mom deadpan, not putting much of a fight. I huff, suddenly annoyed with my mother's lack of consideration. I guess all the Lockhart woman are not immune to the Strife Charm.

"Of course she does, she's just being a little cow right now." He says back, stomping near the door. The next thing I hear is the persistent rap of his knuckles against my bedroom door. "Kairi, dear, open the door for Roxy please."

I bury my face in my pillow further, hoping to just melt right through the cotton pillow case.

"Please let me in. I know you're angry with me, but I want to talk to you before you melt into the linens!" He calls through the wooden door. I feel my face form a scowl against the pillow. He knows me too well.

"Go away!" I finally muster out. I sniffle against the sheets, hoping that my voice sounded too muffled for him to tell I was crying.

"Now there's no need to be _rude_!" He scoffs against the door. And I can just picture his mock- offended expression. It's enough to lift my lips into a small smile. And I hate it. I hate how easily this boy can flip my emotions over like fried eggs. I sniffle again, lifting my face from the ruined pillow, to glare at the door. It's quiet on the other end for a moment.

I wish he would have taken the hint and left, but I know better. He's just waiting for the right moment to –

"I brought red velvet cupcakes! I know you're probably ragging it -" I find the nearest shoe and chuck it at the door. "- And I know you're in desperate need for some sugary treats!"

His knocking becomes excessive to the point where I get fed up and stomp towards the door. I know he's doing that to get me to open the door. And what do you know, it works every freaking time. My hand turns the lock, wraps around the knob, and swings open the door.

He's there, leaning against the door frame looking like a freaking cupcake model. His lips stretch out into that adorable half smile, but it doesn't exactly reach his eyes. There isn't that mischievous twinkle in them… yet. I realize dryly that I probably look like a mess, and I'm scaring the crap out of him. I wipe my nose with end of my sweater and snatch the box of cupcakes.

"You're a week too early." I snap, turning around and walking back towards my bed. Hurriedly, I try to flip over the wet spot on my pillow before he notices. My attempt is futile because his eyes immediately glue to the pillow stain.

I look back at him nervously, and find that he looks incredibly uncomfortable. Well why wouldn't he be? That jerk, I snort in my head as I distract myself by opening the box. And I'm met with the sight of oddly shaped balls of red velvet. I frown at the cupcakes. I want to ask where he bought them, but I remain quiet. I'm not entirely okay with idea of welcoming him back with open arms.

I just want him to spit out what he's going to say and get out. But it's not like I have the guts to say that out loud. Chicken shit, _remember_?

Roxas coughs loudly, and takes a seat next to me. I stiffen instantly because, hello, he's in my direct proximity.

"I'm sorry." He mumbles out – rather lamely, I might add. He sighs and I risk peeking up at him. "I didn't mean to say what I said _like that_."

In other words, the idiot still meant them. I don't know what hurts more, the apology he's giving to the pathetic sap (a.k.a me), or the sincerity of his words. I clutch the box tightly in my hands. Suddenly the thought of eating these cupcakes makes me incredibly sick.

I don't say anything. I really can't. My words have dried up and my mouth feels like a barren wasteland of a dictionary. He continues on nonetheless.

"Sometimes I forget how harsh I can be," Roxas whispers out. "And how … _fragile_ you are."

He finally looks down at me. His eyes are dark, looking like untarnished coals in a barbecue grill. It's a soft, gentle look he's giving me and it sends my heart aflutter. I'm reminded why exactly I love him, and why his brother was entirely wrong.

This is _my_ Roxas. He's mine. A secret, I keep hidden in a small box that sits reverently on my bed post.

Well that's inside my head.

As reality goes, Kairi is being her stupid self, and just swooning.

His eyes narrow and they almost look pleading. There's this sort of desperation flickering between the specks of blue within his dark eyes. It's so strong I can feel my own heart hurting at his despair.

_Don't hurt_. I want to tell him. But that's stupid and somewhere in the back of my head, my _rational_ self (which has currently been reduced to small portion of my actual mind) is telling me to stop being such a crying pile of mush. Sorry _rational_ self, I'm checking you in to the insanity motel.

I can feel my already sore eyes well up with tears again, as he closes his eyes painfully before opening them up. I want to do something spontaneously loving, but he beats me to the punch. I can feel his fingers graze my cheek and I freeze up in an instant. They smell like cupcakes.

The smell and soft feeling of his slightly rough hands send my mind into a swirling, sluggish mess. The insanity motel has been destroyed by a brain corroding earthquake, leaving rational and the mushy self straggling to find safety. I dizzily realize that maybe this idiot baked the cupcakes himself.

"I don't want you to hate me." He breathes out. His voice is soft and matches ridiculously with the equally soft expression I've painted.

"I could never hate you." I croak. "_Never_."

It pains me how entirely honest that statement is. And with the way Roxas's face twists, makes it seem like he agrees as well. His hand moves away, and he's scoots over considerably. His eyebrows furrow, and it bothers me that I can't figure out what he's thinking.

I don't speak Roxas.

"You're the only person that's ever there for me." He mutters. "I don't want to lose you, okay?"

I don't exactly get to respond, because he's crushing me against him in a tight hug. I almost suffocate with the smell of axe, but I can't really complain. He's so warm and he's holding me, and I think I'm going to faint in a few seconds.

Well I don't exactly faint; I can feel myself falling back asleep. For the first time today, I feel _safe_. I don't know what's going on, but we're _okay_. Right?

My eyes glance up to meet his. He smiles back down, with that half smile of his. This moment feels so tender I almost want to burst out crying again. But then he does something that immediately shatters the moment. He leans down and quickly brushes his lips against my forehead. It feels cold and brisk. It feels dismissive.

It feels like a rejection.

.

.

I wake up the next morning alone. It's a silly hope to think he would still be here with me. I knew that he would let me down again.

I was rejected a second time, except this time it feels incredibly worse than being snubbed by him the day before. A piece of me has been _stolen_ away, and I know I can't get it back.

I realize that maybe, just maybe, it's finally time to move on.

.

**Again, poor Kairi? :**(

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are love! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Another update! You know I've never had a consistent update between my different stories. So, right now I'm in sort of a shock. But anyway, this chapter is shorter (sorry about that). And there's a little less Roxas, and kind of more Sora D: *le gasp***

**Yeah, I dunno. If there are any typos, grammar errors, spelling errors sorry about that. I didn't proofread... I should just start doing that now (probably not).**

**.  
><strong>

**Anonymous Review Maha: **Thanks for the review, first of all. I'm really, really super stoked that you liked it! And it's really nice to hear that you've read IJAC *head swells* And I don't really understand your suggestion :O. To answer your last question, the reason that this story is called **Skinny Love** is because I use a line or two from the actual song (by **Bon Iver**) in each chapter. I love the song and it inspired me with this story (Listen to it! It's awesome! There's also a very nice cover by Birdy). **Skinny Love** has an actual _meaning_ too_ (hint: urban dictionary) _. I hope that cleared everything up. Thanks for reading :)

.

**Anyway, back to my Author's Note, um.. enjoy?**

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

**Chapter 4:**

_In the morning I'll be with you  
>But it will be a different "kind"<em>

_._

_._

That next morning everything still feels like it's sort of a dream – a bad dream. It's a weird feeling. Like I'm not really me, and I'm just looking in on myself from the outside.

The box of cupcakes remains half open, and on my bedroom floor. My eyes are dry and hurt like hell. I don't think it's possible for me to cry anymore. Good. I can't stand to be this idiot crying over something I can't have.

The words shake me for a moment.

It's true, I _can't_ have Roxas. He's unattainable and intangible. Sometimes I wonder if he was ever really there to begin with.

I sigh, and rise from the mattress. I push my feet through my slippers and walk towards the box of cupcakes, snatching it up from the floor. My fingers feel clammy against the plastic box. It hurts looking at these _baked goods_. I can't help but snort at that thought. They don't really look physically good.

I sigh again, and set the box down on my bed.

.

.

Throughout the whole morning my movements are robotic. It is obvious something's wrong but my parents don't exactly question it. They already suspect who my current state of detachment pertains to. They're probably so used to my bipolar behavior that it doesn't faze them anymore.

_I beg to differ._

This is different, though. It's a different kind of rejection and I realize it. It's softer and gentler, but for some reason it hurts all the more. It's like that cute and cuddly Snuggle bear grew fangs and decided to bite the hell out of me.

A deep sigh rolls out of my mouth. It's not even funny in my own head. Another sigh escapes as I reach for my bag that's draped over the back of the kitchen chair. The keys are conveniently placed on the table. I snatch them quickly and head out the door, without a goodbye.

.

.

I hesitate when I put the keys in the ignition. This is the part where I pull out of the driveway and head over to Roxas's house because the idiot is too lazy to walk to school.

_What am I supposed to do now?_

I chew my lip, analyzing the situation ahead of me. Did he honestly expect for me to pick him up? Especially after all the drama that happened yesterday?

My eyes glance towards the rearview mirror and I almost choke at the sight. My eyes are bloodshot. Like the _I'm-so-high-off-my-rocker-because-I-just-smoked-a-bunch-of-_pot kind of bloodshot. Not that I've ever done that. Good girl, remember?

I don't want to see him. I really, really don't. I had planned my whole day of complete avoidance of the blonde. And, now, I was just going to go straight to his house?

I shove the keys in the ignition and start the car up with a newfound determination. No. I'm not going to be that pathetic little sap anymore. No way. Kairi Lockhart is not a scared little chicken shit anymore.

I think it was an automatic body response. That's what I tell myself, when I find my car pulled up in Roxas's driveway. Once a chicken shit, always a chicken shit I guess. I put the car on park and sit there for a good minute.

Right about now, the blonde would be bursting through the door because he'd be running late. The door opens and I almost find myself smiling at my accurate description.

… Except it's a brunette that's bursting through the door, helmet under his arm as he makes his way towards the garage. Wait what?

Sora fiddles with the keys, before pressing the button on the key of the garage door. He almost jumps when he finally sees me parked behind him. I don't know why I get this sudden urge to duck beneath the wheel and hide. It's not like he can't see me.

The brunette grins at me nervously, as he walks up to the driver's side. I seriously consider keeping my window rolled up and pulling out as fast as I can… Er, no sexual innuendo intended.

He stops at my window, twirling his keys around his finger, before sticking it inside – and great, Kairi, now you've been reverted into a sick perverted, sex-crazed boy. _Get your mind out of the gutter!_

I roll down the window and he leans down. I hide the scowl that's forming on my face. Because he's leaning all over my car and I just washed it two days ago.

"Kairi, hi!" He greets with a charming smile. It shows all of his sparkly teeth. "… And what are you doing here?"

"I'm doing what I do every morning." I deadpan. Now I'm just annoyed. It's kind of crazy how easily Sora can annoy this girl. Crazy.

Sora looks uncomfortable. Oh crap, did I make my annoyance that obvious? The apology is ready on my tongue but he coughs – _in my car!_ – and suddenly I'm not so apologetic anymore.

"Kairi, um, you know, Roxas isn't …" He mumbles the last part so I don't hear properly. I shut the car off, cutting the engine.

"Sorry, didn't hear you." _Crap, what happened to no apologies?_

"Roxas isn't here."

Oh...

He left? He never does that. Even if whenever we fought (which we're not doing now) I always gave him a ride to school. It was just something we always did. I don't know what it is, the reminder of the rejection, or the fact that Roxas up and ditched me, that makes me feel like crap. The temptation to go back home and curl in my bed grows is strong.

But Sora's staring at me expectantly, and staying in bed all day isn't going to solve my problems.

"Right… um.." I fumble with my words, because I don't know what to say. And I know I look like a complete idiot. And I'm pretty sure, Sora is going to mention this to his younger brother – most likely in a scolding fashion.

_Quick Kairi, say __**something**__. _

"So, um, want a ride?" I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

_No, Kairi. __**Shut up!**_

Sora's lips stretch even wider, into a mega-watt smile. I can't exactly look into his eyes as he exclaims a very excited, "Sure!" and hops into the passenger seat.

.

.

I think it was the fact that I gave Sora Strife a ride to school that I was getting a ridiculous amount of unwanted attention from said brunette. I mean, he was tolerable before but now it's insane.

I watch as he walks me to my class. He has that silly grin on his face, and there's a small blush forming on his tanned face. It's… endearing, in the way a baby would say its first words. And then after a few days the baby wouldn't shut up.

"So, I'll see you after class?" He asks me expectantly. I pretend I don't hear him, and continue walking inside the classroom. My irritation with the brunette only grows.

_Just leave me alone!_

I stop short when I catch sight of the familiar blonde head. It's perfectly arranged and that disappoints me slightly. In all honesty, it disappoints me to see him so perfectly normal and groomed and so damn beautiful. I feel my face flush with a wave of emotions – mostly embarrassment – as I take my seat next to him.

My eyes immediately glue to the desk in front of me. It's better than staring at his apparently content-self. And I wouldn't get the urge to do any stupid.

"You're late, _Cherry_." His voice sounds so cheerful and it _hurts_. It hurts in a way that makes me feel like an even bigger idiot for loving this guy. Did he have no consideration for my feelings? I know he apologized for his rather rough way of dealing with my feelings, but it didn't mean I still wasn't hurting.

And why would he say that, out of random, when I'm pretty sure he knew the reason for my tardiness. I want to shoot him a glare. I want to so badly but I don't think I can do it and _mean_ it.

.

.

Lunch doesn't come as soon as I want it to. But when it does, I feel like a big stress-ball comes off of my chest. Mostly because I don't have to be forced to see either Strife brothers for the remaining classes.

Sora has his own group of friends, I have my own, and I'm pretty sure Roxas will be too distracted with his group of fan girls like he is every day at lunch.

I set my tray down on the lunch table and regard my group of friends. They all have that sympathetic expression on their faces as I sit down (and their conversations immediately ended when I approached the table). The nearest person, Selphie, smiles at me pityingly and the only thing I want to do afterwards is crawl under a rock.

Yeah, so it was obvious I'm in love with Roxas Strife. And yeah, I guess it's pretty obvious that I was rejected too. I sigh – it was more of a huff, really – and plop down next to Selphie. The food I bought doesn't look as appetizing to me anymore.

I hear a loud chuckle resound through the cacophony of the cafeteria. Instinctively I feel my eyes travel over towards the laughing boy. He runs a hand through his perfectly combed blonde hair, his eyes scrunch together as another loud chuckle booms out of his mouth. It's funny how attuned my ears were to every sound he made. Actually, it's kind of pathetic.

I internally groan, picking at my food. Stupid chicken. Stupid Roxas. Stupid cafeteria. Stupid –

"Kairi."

_Oh __**great**__._

I swivel in my seat, gaze already dreading to meet Sora's eager expression. His dopey expression is bright and vibrant and so opposite of what I'm feeling, I want to punch him.

"Do you have a minute?" He asks, placing hand on the back of my chair. His fingers get caught on the tips of my hair and he ends up pulling strands out. The scowl is forming on my face I can feel it. "Ah, sorry." He adds quickly, removing the hand.

"Just… make it quick, okay?" I mumble out.

I let the brunette lead me a slight ways away from the table. He grabs my wrist and pulls me towards the trashcan (oh how romantic!). I watch with a skeptical expression, as he scratches the side of his face nervously. His blue eyes are averted and there's a seriously anxious expression painted across his Banana Republic face.

Subconsciously, I feel my gaze flicker towards the Calvin Kline model. Just because I wonder if he's staring back. He's not. One of the girls is giggling into his ear, while his hand is conveniently placed on her ass.

"I wanted to ask you something." Sora starts out.

I nod, half listening. My eyes narrow, when another girl _accidentally_ falls into his lap. I can feel my arms cross over my chest, defensively. I'm not sure what they would be doing if I continued to watch, so I return my attention back on the bumbling, nervous brunette.

"So there's this band that's playing at this party down the street," Sora trails off pointedly. I can already hear the question before it's even asked. "And I was thinking that maybe you… and I…?"

"I don't really think that's a good idea." I mumble out. I can now suddenly feel the eyes of my friends around the table on me. As if they have our whole conversation bugged. It irritates me and I really want to get out of the spotlight. I mean I probably already look like a jealous, heartbroken, pathetic little sap; I really don't need _this_ attention.

I make a move to walk back towards the table, when I feel his hand clamp around my wrist. This situation feels so ridiculously familiar that it freaks me out for a moment. For a brief second, I have this very strong desire to scream out. But the feeling goes away as quickly as it comes.

"Wait! Kairi, hold on a sec'." Sora tugs me back into his personal space. "It could be fun. And – and I know that you're in a funk right now-" I frown at his choice of words. "-so I really think this could just, like, make things _better_ for a while."

"No."

"It's not a date."

"_No_."

"Really, we'll just go as friends, just to take your mind off things. You need to go out and have fun and…"

I tune him out after that. I'm not entirely convinced with his argument. It's not that I don't think he's sweet by doing this because he is. But I'm not stupid either. I know he has other intentions in his little agenda as well.

My eyes flicker around the cafeteria, looking for that set of eyes that I _just_ know are on me. Still comfortably crowded by a group of girls, naturally, Roxas stares straight at me. It makes my insides quiver because it's the first time I've stared back this whole day.

His expression is unreadable. But I know for a fact that his attention is not centered around the gang of girls smothering him anymore. I don't know how long I hold his gaze. I've stopped paying attention to the fact that others are staring at me.

His eyes narrow slightly, as if he's studying me. Because we're two strangers who speak different languages.

I swallow quickly and narrow my eyes back.

_You don't own me._

It's a halfhearted attempt at conveying a silent message and he knows it. I decide to turn away before I do something completely stupid.

"…And the band is really good! There'll be food and -"

"-Okay fine." I interrupt quickly.

_Oh well __**that**__ was stupid._

These Strife brothers are going to be the death of me.

.

.

Sora reassures me afterwards that this was not going to be a date, not in the slightest.

_Oh, who was he kidding, it's so going to be a date._

And to make matters worse, Namine's been glaring at me for the past half hour. I feel like I'm going to turn into an ice sculpture with that frosty glower she's shooting me.

"Namine, please wait!" I chase after her, as soon as the bell rings because she bolts from her chair. She pauses and looks over her shoulder. Her expression is still deathly cold as ever. It literally freezes me in my tracks. I would have remained stone-still, had she not grabbed my arm and yanked me away from the bustling students who were walking out the school gates.

Her hand is tight and uncomfortable, and it worries me. Oh what the hell, I _should_ be worried. Should be _groveling_ at her feet. Admittedly it scares the crap out of me. Namine never gets angry. She hates confrontation. And seeing her in this state has me realizing that I've messed up. Big time.

Once we settle in a secluded area, she spins around and looks at me with a very harsh stare.

"How could you do that?" She demands, her voice was full of anger. I don't think I've ever seen her that angry or… _hurt_. Her eyebrows furrow as she looks away, releasing my arm. "I should've realized it. God, I'm so stupid."

"Namine, it doesn't mean anything. I just said yes, so it would shut Sora up."

"You said _yes_ to a date with a guy that you know I-I have feelings for. How is that _okay_?" Namine asks incredulously.

"I'm sorry, in that moment I just forgot-"

"-Forgot that I existed?" The blonde continues accusingly.

"No!" I protest, as she shakes her head. There's a cold, bitter smile forming on her face that sends chills down my spine. "No, of course not!"

"I would've never done that to you." Namine's voice is soft, but it's sharper than knives. Each word that's uttered out of the blonde's mouth just makes me feel like I'm being stabbed over and over repeatedly. "Even if I was rejected and wanted to get back at that person, I would never sell you out. Do you want to know why?" The smile fell away from her face. "You mean more to me than some stupid boy."

The guilt spread throughout my body like an infection. I want to say I'm sorry to her a thousand times but I know at this point she's not listening to me anymore. It's a one-sided conversation and I'm the punching bag that has to listen to everything.

"I know you've been hurt, Kairi," Namine says icily. "But I didn't think you'd ever be _mean_."

She shakes her head with a look of absolute disgust on her face. And that's exactly how I feel – _disgusting_. Unworthy of being loved. A cockroach that's just begging to be squashed.

She's gone before I can muster out any semblance of an apology.

.

.

**Oh geez, well I'm pretty sure the author's note was longer than the actual chapter lol! But it's okay, it was meant to be short. It's building up for the next one. Next chapter's going to be :O**

**Reviews are loved, dearly, by the way.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Doo, doo, doo, this update is kind of late. :/. I hate late updates. I really do. Me is sleepy. It's approximately 1:20-ish right now (in the morning).**

** It's kind of funny that when I have nothing to do, the inspiration to write is not there, but when I'm pressed for time and have a shitload of homework to do, I manage to gain inspiration. What's up with that! Anyway, this chapter is regular length (yay!). And... and a lot of stuff happens. A lot of not PG things happen :O**

**Yeah, well... I didn't proofread (is lazy) so apologies for any typos, grammatical errors, and spelling things that are wrong and stuff.**

**Enjoy!**

.

.

**Chapter 5:**

_Come on skinny love what happened here?  
>Suckle on the hope in lite brassiere<em>

.

.

The day of the party comes more quickly than I want it to. It's been a week of Sora following me around like a little puppy. It's been a week of the same bullshit with Roxas. And it's also been a week of not speaking to Naminé. I can't exactly say that I don't expect this kind of treatment from my best friend (both of them, actually), but it still hurts. I feel incredibly alone in this whole situation, as if both of them had turned their backs on me.

It just makes my situation more – well – _fucked_.

It's not fair. It really isn't. I can't win with either of them. Naminé, despite her feelings for Sora, should've understood my predicament. She should've understood there really wasn't any other choice. I mean, shouldn't a best friend understand? And Roxas… well he was a whole different story.

I sigh, playing with the keys in my hand, as I sit in my car parked in the Strifes' driveway. I've been sitting here for a good ten minutes, staring at the garage door. I don't know why I can't muster up enough strength to open the car door and go outside. But I do have a slight inkling that it's because I know _he_ lives here. Well duh! The sight of this house just seems to dampen my spirits. Because I'm not going to see him here (he's probably already at the party). Because I'm going with the other brother. Because I'm in love with the Calvin Kline model.

I let out something akin to a groan, and slam my palms against the steering wheel. However, that whole _vehicle-part-beating-up_ doesn't exactly go smoothly, my palms slip and accidentally hit the horn. The loud beep resounds throughout the slightly empty area and I curse a storm at my stupidity.

And to my utter disdain, the front door opens revealing a very excited looking brunette.

Well there goes another ten minutes of sitting in the car, peacefully.

"Hey, Kairi! You're here early." He comments, as he holds open the car door for me… as if I couldn't do it myself. I hold back the scowl that I can feel forming on my face, as I hop out. You would think that he would be the one picking me up because that's the natural thing a boy would do on a date… BUT THIS ISN'T A DATE.

I shrug my shoulders as a response, as he eyes me up and down. It kind of annoys me, which isn't the normal reaction a girl would feel when a _Banana Republic _model is checking you out. It's not like there really is anything for him to check out. I went for the _casual_ (borderline conservative, Christian girl) look.

"You look beautiful." Sora breathes out. I study his face for any sign of insincerity. And oh god he was telling the truth! I nearly blush. Because it's rather sweet, and it's endearing to know his vocabulary is broader than _hot_.

"Thanks." I mumble. Great, now I think I may be swooning, just a little bit. Come on! What kind of girl wouldn't be swooning? "Shall we, um, go?"

Sora's lips widen into a goofy grin. "Yeah, let's go."

.

.

The walk to the party doesn't take long. We barely take a few steps, until I hear the band blasting through the amps down the street. The music seems to excite the brunette beside me. He keeps jumping in his step. Finally after a few minutes, he boldly grabs my hand and drags me to the house.

It's a mess. Toilet paper is strewn across the tree in the front yard. I can see that the potheads have braved the cold temperature and continue smoking their pot diligently. Beer cans litter the lawn; I have to kick a few from the walkway.

And despite all of this it seems as if this was heaven to Sora – the smile hasn't faded away from his face. He tugs me and breaks into a run towards the open front door. Pretty stupid to keep the door open, it's freezing cold outside. But once we get inside, I can understand why the idiots left the door open. It's sticky and humid in the room. Sweat and booze immediately fill my nose. It makes me dizzy for a second, but Sora's hand steadies me.

He pulls me towards the band who are rocking out fiercely. The lead singer howls into the microphone, whipping his long red hair. His eyes wink towards the sandy haired boy on the guitar. And okay, it is sort of sexy. In a non-stalkerish fan girl way.

"These guys are good." Sora yells into my ear over the loud music, and screaming girls. I nod my head in response.

All the while Sora doesn't let go of my hand. Surprisingly I haven't let go of his. I don't know why. It's not like I like him like that (god how many times did I say _like_ in that sentence?). Because I know I don't. But I feel this strange sense of relief, clutching onto his hand, as we both smile and cheer on the band.

He feels _safe_. Like I can't go wrong with him. He feels like the tightly packed harnesses that are on the new roller coasters.

I stare at him and his ridiculously happy face, his dopey smiles. It hits me. He's not like his brother at all. Not in the slightest. The way his fingers curl protectively around my own, I know, subconsciously that this boy would never hurt me. Not in the way his brother would – _has_. He's not unpredictable like Roxas. He's not the dinky little bar they have on the old roller coasters – the ones that offer no sense of safety for the riders.

And I realize that I would hurt him. Probably more so than Roxas hurt me.

And Naminé… I feel my eyes suddenly look away from the band, and begin searching the crowds of people. As if we were bound by some kind of weird telepathy, I see her and she sees me. The blonde is sitting on the couch, overlooking the spectators with a dubious expression. She's not enjoying herself. I come to the realization that it's probably because of me.

I feel my feet move towards the blonde, but Sora's hand stops me.

"Where are you going?" He yells. I point towards Naminé. His face drains of color. His expression falls and he's tugging me away from the band and people, into the nearest doorway. It's the kitchen.

"I – I can't really talk to her." Sora confesses at a lower voice, since the music is muffled. Okay, now I'm curious. "You see, the day I asked you to come to this party with me, she kind of – sort of – told me she liked me."

I blink. Okay, seriously what the hell?

First of all, she didn't say a thing to me.

Second, she doesn't even talk to anyone.

And third, what the hell!

She confessed? Holy crap, this just makes everything more – well – _fucked_. How the hell was I supposed to know that she did that? That makes what I did even douchier!

My eyes glance up at the brunette, who's looking away sheepishly.

"So you ask out her best friend? Sora you can't do that!" I spit out incredulously. I glance around the kitchen, looking for something, a pan, pot, spoon, anything, to bang him over the head with. Sora looks at me with shock and a little hurt.

"You were the one that said yes!" He throws back. It almost makes me double over. He's right. I _was_ the idiot that said yes.

"I have to go talk to her." I mumble, before turning around and stalking out of the kitchen. The music blasts through my ears and people bump into me, as I make my way to the couch… except she's no longer there. Crap. Crap. Crap.

I'm getting desperate now and start pushing people around. Like, seriously get out of my way!

I'm winded and begin to become so oblivious to my surroundings that I barrel into someone. Their hand seize my shoulders to stop the impact. Large pale hands. I know who it is before I even have to look up.

Roxas Strife, in his entire damn, perfect Calvin Kline model glory, is staring down at me with a ghost of a smile. His black-like eyes scan my face with that heavy gaze. Dear god, am I melting now? This isn't the time to melt!

"Where are you running off to?" His voice is velvety and smooth and soft. Despite the loud music, I can hear it clearly, as if he were whispering it in my ear. I open my mouth to respond and then close it and then repeat the process a few times. His lips pull up into a patronizing smile. I know he's making fun of me, or on the verge of. Anger begins to seep through my body.

"Have you seen Naminé?" I ask sharply. One of his dark eyebrows cocks upwards at my sudden tone.

"I haven't." He answers, still staring at me like I have a third eye. I make a move to continue my trek but he stops in front of me. He tilts his head so that he's somewhat at eye level with me. "Dance with me."

"What?"

His eyes narrow and he gestures towards the band. "Those losers are done, now. Let's dance."

I vaguely hear the music that's pouring through my ears. I'm only half aware that the band is indeed finished with their performance and the DJ is taking over. The crowd has suddenly started swaying to the music and I'm caught in the middle, frozen stalk still under Roxas's penetrating gaze.

"Come on." He's seducing me and oh god it's working. I can feel myself move towards him, involuntarily mind you! His hands touch my waist and despite the thick layer of my jeans, I can feel a sense of heat erupt underneath that spot. His lips stretch into a wider smile as I fumble to keep up with him.

My face is beat red and I'm embarrassed beyond the point of release. Because I don't do this. Because I'm not the slut he usually dances with. Because I'm Kairi, the one who usually sits and glares at the idiot as he dances with a slut.

"We found Dove in a soapless place." He sings into my ear and I snort into the collar of his shirt. Oh, god that was unattractive.

"That's not how it goes." I admonish. He pulls me closer and presses his face against the side of my head.

"I wanted to ask," He mutters slowly, I can feel his hands move lower. And god, I'm not stopping him. "how are you doing?"

I feel myself frown at that question, I feel myself tense up, and I feel myself pulling away from the blonde, but he tightens his grip.

"No, no, don't go just yet." He scolds, tugging me so that I'm flush with his body. I swear if my body got any hotter I was going to explode. It feels awkward and incredibly too intimate for this dance. He's basically just hugging a limp noodle right now. "You don't have to say anything. I'll talk."

_Okay… that sounds fair-ish._

"You and Sora huh?" He continues on, his hand creeping dangerously lower. I don't know exactly what he's trying to do. But he's literally got me on the tip of his finger. "Didn't expect that from you." His hands lower at the tip of my back pockets. And I'm anticipating _something_. What? Him touching my ass like all those other skanks? Ew, no thanks.

It's gross and degrading and – _oh god!_

His hands curl into my pockets and literally drag me back towards him. I can feel the corner of his lip pull up against my face. His breath is hot against my cheek. His tongue is dancing dangerously closer towards my ear as he talks.

"I don't like it." He hisses, moving his face lower and squeezing his hand against… geez I'm so embarrassed I can't even finish that statement. It shouldn't feel this good, it really shouldn't. But it does, oh, it really does! My stomach is doing somersaults and a very pleasant heat wave is traveling down my body.

I feel his nose first against my neck, as he nuzzles closer. "I really, _really_ don't like it."

His voice is quivering and it matches my frame. I'm shaking like a leaf, feeling like I'll collapse any second. Shivering, even, despite the incredible sense of warmth.

And then I feel his lips brush against my neck. It's soft and barely there, but my senses are heightened and I feel it as if he were biting me. Biting… The thought sends another shiver down my spine. His lips are traveling. I can feel them part into two, leaving a slightly wet trail.

My hands (I barely notice them) are holding onto his shirt for dear life. I might die. Seriously. I can just go die now. His lips move towards my jaw and I know he's coming closer. I lick my lips excitedly, already expecting it. Expecting the inevitable.

He parts from my jaw, and I can feel him breathing against my lips. I inhale, hoping to memorize it, except something completely throws off the whole situation. I smell a hint of alcohol.

The smell throws me back into reality and out of _swooning Kairi-land._ There's booze and I'm at a party. A party in which I'm pretty sure a bunch of people are attending. Said of bunch of people, are probably watching me with one of the most desirable guys in school… Sora included in the said bunch of people.

He's literally centimeters away, when I push him back, his hands falling out from my pockets. He blinks at me, perplexed. I manage to summon up a glare because now I'm angry. Where was all this coming from? After rejecting me, not once, but twice, he has the – the _balls_ to come up and molest me!

"What the hell!" I demand, wiping my neck from any evidence. But I can still feel the tingly sensation on the areas his lips touched. "Why are you doing this?"

Roxas remains quiet. His expression is quite serious for once. There isn't a trace of a smile anymore and he almost looks…_hurt_.

"Kairi-"

"No! You don't get to do that!" I practically shriek and ignore the angry comments I'm getting from the people dancing. "You don't get to hurt me and expect me to welcome you back with open arms. Get away from me. I'm not going to be with you whenever it's accommodating for you. And I don't care if – if you don't like seeing me with someone else! It's not for you to decide who I date or not. It's never been up to you."

"Are you kidding me-"

"Fuck off, seriously." I snap out, shooting him a disgusted glare. I don't give him another glance, as I walk away. I'm furious. Not so much at Roxas. Mostly at myself. How could I be so freaking weak? Where was all that strength I was talking about? What happened to moving on?

This certainly isn't moving on. If anything, I've taken ten steps back.

.

.

I don't know what to do with myself at this party. I try looking for Naminé again, but it's futile. I know she's probably already left. I try looking for Roxas again, just so I can yell at him some more. Because really, this is all his fault.

When I can't find either of my best friends, I settle for my last resort: Sora. I find him awfully quickly. He's sitting outside on the backyard porch, beer can in his hand. He looks miserable. And I'm guilty all of a sudden.

When he sees me, he gives me a halfhearted smile. I take a seat next to him and wrap myself up in my coat.

"How was my brother?" Sora asks bitterly. Crap. How is it that I can manage to ruin three people's nights at the same time, oh four if I include myself.

"He's a jerk." I mumble.

Sora doesn't respond, but takes a swig of the can. "Did you find Naminé?"

I visibly droop. "No."

He takes another drink, before throwing the can out in the yard.

"Look, Kairi I know you don't really like me and I know I seem overbearing and obsessive," He says, shooting me a sad smile. "but believe me when I tell you, that I'm here for you, whether it be as a friend… or more."

I almost want to cry. I really do. It's sad, looking at him give me that pathetic grin. It saddens me to know that he never really stood a chance against his brother. He never really stood a chance in general. And it makes it worse because I know he realizes it too. I want to say something heartfelt back, at least a freaking thank you, but my mouth feels suddenly dry. Sora gives me a knowing look, before rising from his seat and holding out his hand.

"Come on, I'm sure Naminé is still here."

I take his hand and we both walk back inside the house. The party is still, surprisingly (and annoyingly) going on strong. We dodge the dancing people, scouting the area for any blonde girls. When we find none, we hit the empty hallways next.

"She's bound to be here somewhere." Sora reassures me. I hope he's right.

We both split up to check the numerous hallways that all lead back to the same place. He takes the left and I take the right. I don't have to go very far because in the next second I see the blonde girl. Roxas is with her. A sense of relief hits me because I know she's okay and hasn't done anything stupid.

That sense of relief is short lived, however, because in the next second the girl tilts her head up and kisses Roxas fiercely. Her arms wrap around his neck, as her hands run through his hair. And he is certainly not pushing away either. He's kissing her just as harshly.

I feel indecent watching this and yet I can't tear my eyes away. This is unreal, it's absurd, it's impossible. I hear their moans and my world literally feels like it's crashing down. It's a betrayal. My best friends' betrayal. They've ganged up on me. I suppose it was only a matter of time.

"_I would've never done that to you."_

Her words run through my head. It's funny, how I never noticed her statement was past tense until now.

I've betrayed her trust, so Naminé was only doing that same back.

I hear footsteps behind me, and then hear Sora yelp a very loud: "What the hell?"

Both blondes break apart. Roxas stares at me straight in the eye. His lips pull into a small smirk. It's not noticeable to anyone but me, because Kairi, the pathetic little sap, knows practically all of his facial expressions.

Naminé, on the other hand, glances at me confusedly with unfocused eyes. Her gaze doesn't last very long, before her eyes roll to the back of her head and she tumbles down face first into the carpet floor.

.

.

**What do you reckon Kairi should do now? Cookies to who can guess what song they were dancing to! Hmmm... Cliffhangers do suck don't they? I'm debating whether doing the last five-ish chapters in Roxas's POV..but nah! LOL.  
><strong>

**Anyway, reviews are loved ... a lot.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Well, the next chapter is up. It came out longer than I expected... And… it's really angsty. Really, angsty. And really intense! A lot of you may hate me after you read this. And possibly Roxas. Also there are a lot of things happening in this chapter. I've seriously considered changing this into an M-rated story, but nah. I never said this was going to be a happy story.**

**To those of you who answered "We Found Love" by Rihanna, you are correct. Congrats:**

**_roxirigirl_. _Polymoly_. _ken08002_. _Sookdeo_. _DreamStar175_**

**Free cyber-sugar cookies for you!**

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**.  
><strong>

**Chapter 6:**

_Now all your love is wasted?  
>Then who the hell was I?<br>Now I'm breaking at the britches  
>And at the end of all your lines<br>_

.

.

It all just happens rather quickly. Naminé hits the floor. Sora lets out another yelp. Roxas watches silently. And I throw myself out towards the blonde. What the hell is going on?

"Naminé!" I yell, sinking on my knees towards her limp body. I turn her over and see blood seeping through what I realize is a busted lip. I shake her, feeling the blood drain out of my face at her unresponsive reaction. "What's – what's wrong with her?"

"Can't you tell by now?" Roxas's voice is filled with mirth. My eyes flit towards his shaking form. He's laughing! He has the audacity to laugh at this whole situation. It sets my blood boiling. I don't get a chance to respond because the blonde rolls over. A tiny grown escapes her lips as she comes around. My fingers push the hair out of her face, and then shortly after that, she pukes all over my lap.

"She's _wasted_." Sora murmurs, as the realization hits me faster than the steaming anger.

Naminé's eyes crack open and she stares up at me with glassy eyes. I'm not sure she knows where she is or who I am, but the look is gone when another gagging fit hits her. I move to stand, as quickly as I can, pulling her up with me. I support most of her weight and it really doesn't faze me because she's tiny as it is.

"Bathroom." I order sharply. Sora stares at me as if I just spoke to him in a different language. Roxas, on the other hand, knows exactly what I want. He makes a quick turn and I rush to follow him, dragging Naminé's drunken body with me. We aren't even near the bathroom, when I suddenly hear her sobbing quite loudly into my ear.

"Oh god!" She croons, digging her nails into my neck. I want to tell her to shut up. Partly because she's hurting me. But I think it's mostly because I'm furious, at Roxas, at her, at myself. It never ends. "No, no, no, he hates me. God, he _hates_ me!"

Roxas pulls open the farthest door in the hallway, moves in to turn the light. Fortunately there is no one in there, when I dump Naminé as close to the toilet as I possibly can without her banging her head against the porcelain seat.

Her crying doesn't stop, even when she's puking her guts out into the toilet and all over herself. I wrinkle my nose, as I hold her hair back. Her dainty fingers clutch the toilet seat tightly as another roll of vomit comes up. After a few minutes, the blonde tiredly leans against the seat, whimpering against the rim of the toilet. I don't have the heart to move her face away. The girl is crying as if someone were chopping off her legs.

"What did you do?" I hear Sora's angry voice by the door. My attention diverts from the sobbing blonde, towards the two brothers who are watching us. Roxas looks remote, unemotional even. If I were anyone else, I would assume he was indifferent to the entire thing, but I noticed his right hand clenched into a tight fist.

"I didn't mean for things to get this bad." Roxas snapped back.

"Weren't you watching her!" I demand, rising from my seat. Naminé doesn't notice, as she continues to cry into the toilet.

"I'm not her babysitter." He shot back. I'm furious. I want to slap him or do something to wake him up from that stupid Roxas world he's been living in.

Naminé coughs, momentarily breaking us from our argument. I reach for her hair, but she moves away proceeding to barf out her insides. "I don't want him to hate me. I – I shouldn't have done that. Sora's going to hate me." She hiccups.

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, before I hear an uncomfortable cough coming from other best friend. Roxas looks away.

"What did you do?" I repeat Sora's question. At least, Roxas has the decency to look a little nervous. "Roxas!"

"Look, I honestly didn't mean for Naminé to get _this_ bad." The blond admits reluctantly.

"What did you do?"

"I just offered her a few drinks, okay? I just was hoping to get her tipsy, just a little. It wasn't long before she was confusing me for Sora. It was an honest mistake."

"Let me get this straight… You got our best friend drunk to make-out with her!"

Roxas frowns. "Look, I'm sorry, when a hot girl wants to make-out I just go for it!"

"You're her best friend." I snarl.

"_You're_ her best friend." He repeats and I visibly flinch at the statement. The anger is coursing through my veins. And I realize that if I don't calm myself down now, I'm going to have another Kairi explosion. Roxas seems to notice…if that slight tilt of his lips is any indication. "You should've noticed that she was a mess way before this party even started Cherry."

_Damn it Kairi, this isn't the time to be staring at his lips!_

"What are you saying? That I'm a worst friend than you?" I ask incredulously.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying."Roxas scoffs.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me right now-"

"At least I don't hurt her." He spits.

"And this isn't hurting her?" I demand, gesturing towards the blonde sniffling, leaning against the tub. Roxas's frown deepens.

"I told you it was a mistake. Drinking cheers me up and Naminé was miserable, so I put two-and-two together."

"You're sick." I hiss, before standing up abruptly and stomping out of the bathroom.

This is stupid. Let them sort out that mess. Naminé and Roxas can both go fuck off.

.

.

Monday morning, I still can't seem to process the events from last night. My mind just wouldn't accept it. I couldn't – I can't – accept the fact that _Roxas_, _my_ Roxas, and Naminé would do that. It seems unreal, crazy. I feel like I've tumbled down a rabbit hole and everything's topsy turvy. Kairi's in wonderland, except it's not really a wonderful land, it's more like _horror_land. A neverending fright fest that's usually held in the local theme parks. That's exactly what it was – a never-ending fright fest.

When was it going to end? Will it even _ever_ end?

Roxas, the thought of his callous behavior sends my blood boiling. I _want_ to hate him. I want to hate him so badly. But I can't. I just can't. I can't reach into my own soul and find some kind of semblance of hatred so strong that it perpetually binds itself towards the blond. It's impossible.

And Naminé? It's hard to think of her and not want to rip her hair out. It's so easy to hate her and that's just sad.

I didn't speak to her since Saturday. I tried calling her over the remainder of the weekend, just to make sure she got home safe. But the she never picked up. I didn't have the guts to visit her either. I was angry too.

It's first period. I'm dreading that class. I'm dreading sitting next to him. But I quickly shake that feeling. The bell was going to ring soon and Kairi, despite any kind of situation, is never tardy. I walk into Government class, taking my seat. I can't resist the urge to glare at Roxas. He doesn't seem fazed by the glower, as he smiles at me easily. It just infuriates me even more.

"Goodmorning Cher-"

"_Don't_," I hiss out, my fingers already curling into fists on my desk. "talk to me."

I don't want to blow up. I really don't. It really isn't the appropriate time or place, especially considering the fact that that stupid bimbo bitch, Olette, is watching our every move. I shoot her a glare as well, just because I can. Her nose wrinkles as if she's just taken a whiff of dog poop.

Roxas can sense her stare so he knows better than to provoke me. He keeps quiet the rest of the period, and I'm thankful for that. For once, he doesn't seem like an idiot.

.

.

The day flits by faster than I expect it to. Perhaps it's because I'm only half-aware of my surroundings. Perhaps it's because I feel like complete and utter shit. Or perhaps it's the incredibly tremendous fear washing through me. English with best friend number two. I know Naminé is in a right fit. She's been ignoring my calls since Sunday. That really was never a good sign. Hung-over or not, Naminé is usually really good about returning missed calls.

I pause by the door, knowing that the blonde – if she showed up to school – will be sitting in her regular seat. I've never wanted to _not_ go to English this badly (I _love_ English!). I wish I could just melt into the linoleum floor. Even if there was gum on the current tile I was stepping on.

I hear a nervous cough, from my right and my attention immediately shifts towards the sound. Spiky hair, nervous smiles and all, Sora stands awkwardly before me.

_Sora_.

Of course. Another person I wasn't really all that keen about seeing today.

"Hey Kairi." He greets politely. It's different. The whole vibe of this greet is different. It's almost distant. A sad smile tugs at my lips as I greet him back.

"How was, I mean, did you get home okay Saturday?" I ask, feeling incredibly stupid for not asking that question on – _duh_ – Saturday night. Sora's brown eyebrows raise slightly, my question barely sinking in. He knew I was really asking about Roxas. Stupid Kairi. Even when you're furious with the idiot, he still manages to make you a pathetic little sap.

"Yeah I was fine." He answers quietly. He understands now.

I mimic his nervous cough, before walking through the door. This chit chat was only getting more awkward by the second.

Naminé is the first thing I see when I walk in. She looks oddly normal, considering how messed up she was on Saturday. Her blonde hair is neatly arranged in soft curls over her right shoulder. Her face is resting against her hand as she draws in her empty notebook. It feels almost normal walking into the class. It feels like it could be any other day. But when she looks up, that feeling shatters.

Her eyes narrow and freeze over instantly. The serene look on her face stiffens until it's an empty, cold look. There's something in her expression that terrifies me. It could've been the sudden coldness of it. But I really think it's the detachment of her expression. Her walls that I've so carefully picked away over the years are standing strong against me. I'm locked out, unable to pass through.

It hurts to see her look so defensive. It hurts even more when the hard studying gaze I used to hate is completely gone. She barely even acknowledges me.

"N-Naminé?" I call out tentatively. She regards me. But that's just it, she regards me like she would to any normal person – no – she regards me as if I were a stranger. The look silences me and I don't bother trying to grab her attention the rest of the class.

After the dismissal bell rings, I watch as she picks her things up and walks out the door. I count to five, before I rush out after her. She's walking normally. It was always harder to read Naminé than it was read Roxas. And now that she's closed off, just makes the studying all the more difficult.

"Naminé!" I call out. She stops to my surprise. I feel an eerie sense of déjà vu hit me, as she slowly turns around. "Naminé, hi, I just, um, I just wanted to see how you were-"

"-Fine, thanks." She interrupts stonily.

"Oh." I say in a small voice. Her gaze is still blank, but I notice she keeps looking down to the floor. As if she has a hard time staring me in the eye. "So, um, I just wanted to say sorry for everything-"

"Really, just save the apology. I know neither of you mean it." Naminé says with a condescending tone lacing her voice. It catches me off guard. "I'm really, like, tired of the both of you. I'm sick of watching you guys. I'm sick of trying to play match-maker and peace-keeper for you two. And I'm sick of being treated like the stupid tag-along, unimportant nuisance."

"I – I don't, we don't think of you that-"

"-Kairi, I seriously don't want to hear anything more. It's always going to be you and Roxas. I was never really part of your crew. And to be honest, I kind of hate the both of you right now." Naminé said with that creepy calm voice.

"Naminé that's not-"

"No! I don't want anything to do with Roxas or you or even Sora. I just – I just want out." She sighs, wearily. That's exactly what she looks like. She looks tired, exhausted even. I don't know why I didn't realize it sooner. Being so caught up in Roxas that I failed to notice that Naminé was practically going through the same thing I was, probably even worse. "I'm leaving."

"What?"

"I'm moving back with my dad in Radiant Gardens."

.

.

By lunch time, I'm seething. I feel on edge and jumpy. The conversation with Naminé has only sent my emotions in to a confusing jumbling mess. Leaving? She couldn't be leaving. We couldn't have scared her off? It couldn't be our fault!

It's his fault. It's always been Roxas's fault, indirectly or directly. Things always trace back to that blond idiot!

I drop my tray onto the table, my hands are shaking and I'm only half aware of my surroundings.

"Kairi, are you okay?" Selphie asks, putting down her carton of milk. She glances at me worriedly but I know it isn't sincere. How do you say you're okay when you're not?

I don't respond, instead choosing to rip the turkey sandwich from out of the plastic wrappings. I'm not even hungry. In fact I'm sick to my stomach. But I ignore that, as I stuff the sandwich into my mouth. I don't even like turkey!

I can feel their eyes on me as I glare down at the table with watery eyes. I don't know what to do. I realize I stopped knowing what to do a long time ago. What am I supposed to do about Naminé? About Roxas? About myself?

And to make matters worse today, of all days, Roxas chooses to ignore his horde of girls to take a seat next to me. His tray drops on the table roughly, some of his chili beans spilling over onto my tray. He beams at me, cheekily. I want to smack him, but I don't. I wouldn't do it in a crowd full of people. His fan girls would jump me.

"Cherry, you see Naminé today?" He asks. I can hear the smug tone dripping from his voice. I don't respond, choosing to take a big bite of my sandwich. The horrible turkey flavor infests my mouth and I'm tempted to cough it all out. But I can feel his stupid eyes on me. I don't need another excuse to make myself look like a humiliating idiot.

Roxas turns away, and proceeds to tell the group a joke. It takes me a while to realize that it's a dirty one. Oh typical. A dirty joke that most likely demeans women. The blond nudges me with his elbow, excitedly asking me, "Did you get it?"

I chew dangerously on my sandwich, glaring at him. Roxas doesn't seem fazed by my lack of…friendliness. In fact, he seems to have taken it upon himself to make my ill behavior melt away. He nudges me, or asks my input and the annoyance is increasing. Add that to the fact that I'm already pissed beyond my wits at him.

He's laughing loudly and it sounds like someone playing a trumpet in my ear. I can feel my resolve crumbling away after every minute ticking by. And then the idiot mentions the party.

"You guys should've seen Naminé, she was so…"

And then I snapped. I'm so angry and in a rage that I don't even hear the rest of his statement. Naminé is leaving because of him. Everything is crap because of him. It's always been him and I'm so sick and tired of it.

"Hey!" I shriek, standing abruptly from my seat. I can feel everyone's attention suddenly shift towards me, including his. "Do you mind being an asshole somewhere else?"

His smile fades slowly.

I don't stick around to hear anything. Quickly, I grab my tray, bustling towards the trash can, and walking out the cafeteria door. I can still feel the heated glares from the girls.

.

.

It felt like déjà vu all over again. I cried as I walk down the hall, towards my car. Except Roxas didn't stop me. And neither did Sora. I'm was alone in this.

The tears didn't stop, even when I finally got home, even when my parents had the decency to finally ask what was wrong with me.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" My mother asks for the billionth time that week. It's Friday now, and their anniversary. I can see their bags are packed for the drive they've been planning for months. A wave of guilt hits me.

_God, Kairi you can even manage to ruin your parents' day as well._

"No, Mom, just go." I protest and for the first time it sounds like a decent protest. It sounds sincere, despite the fact that I'm not okay and I don't want the safety of my parents gone this weekend. I didn't even have Naminé anymore. She was long gone by Wednesday afternoon. I didn't even get to see her off at the train station. Or give her an apology.

My mom looks convinced for the first time. It unnerves me and I can't exactly say I'm relieved at the expression on her face.

It doesn't take long for them to load their bags into the car and pull out of the drive way. It was so easy for them. A sense of despair hits me as I watch the car drive down the street. I really am alone in all of this.

My lips tremble and I can feel it, the oncoming tears. With a quivering breath, I turn and head back inside. I make a beeline for my room. It's not like any of the other rooms in the house are appropriate for a meltdown. Except, perhaps the living room. But sitting on the couch by myself and not being able to hear my mother cooking or my dad remodeling the guest room, only deepens the sense of loneliness.

So, my room it is.

I lock the door, an automatic reaction when I walk into my room. There is still a fresh wet stain on my pillow and I just know that stain is going to expand after I'm done with it.

My planned sob fest is short lived, because in the next second I hear a knock on my bedroom door.

_Crap. Did I not lock the front door? Kairi you **idiot**! A complete rapist could come up here and – and –_

"Kairi?"

I feel the blood drain out of my face as the voice of the last person on earth I want to see, call out for me. Slowly, I walk back towards the door, hesitating. I want to open it and tell him to go away and give him a good kick in the groin for good measure, but I don't want to risk him slipping in.

And I really, really don't want him seeing me cry any more than he already has. A girl can only take so much of humiliation.

"I brought a cake." Roxas's voice is soft and hopeful on the other side.

I hold my breath, feeling the traitor tears spilling down the sides of my face. I try to silence the sobbing noises, but I know he can hear them. It's Roxas. It's always been Roxas. He's always known everything about me. "Please, Kairi."

"I – I – I'm not opening." I cry out. _Reminder, don't talk when you're crying Kairi. _The other side is quiet and I can just picture that stupid satisfied smirk on his face.

"Please, Kairi just let me in."

"Leave me alone!" I manage to holler without any stutters. Should be quite proud of myself. But I can't muster even a grin on my trembling lips. I hear him sigh and… a sniffle? I hear the package of the cake crinkle as he, presumably, sets it down on the floor. I hear his footsteps fade as he walks away.

_Good riddance._

After a good ten minutes, I take a deep breath and slowly unlock the door, poking my head out to see if there was still a blonde. A soft sigh escapes my lips when I see the empty hallway. That was a good sign. My eyes then fall to the package on the floor. The paper bag looks fancy, and looks like it belongs to an expensive bakery. A wave of anger hits me, as I grab the bag, run down the stairs and throw it in the trash can. I don't want his mixed signals or his stupid pity. I don't want it anymore. I don't want anything to do with him.

My eyes scan the hallway, bathroom and empty bedroom for any sign of the unwanted blond. When I'm satisfied, I hurry towards the front door and lock it.

I take my time heading back upstairs. It's not like I had anything to look forward to up in my room, besides crying another river. But apparently that river is momentarily blocked off by a dam, because the second I open my door I see a panting Roxas and my bedroom window open.

My eyes are red; I know that for a fact. I can't really hide the evidence that I've been crying either. He looks at me as if he knows too. His dark eyes are observant and they look, weirdly, red as well. This… this couldn't be right.

I'm speechless, watching him watch me. It feels imaginary. He must be some sort of hologram, sending me –

He reaches out and grabs my hand. Kay, well that theory is thrown out the window.

"I'm sorry." He breathes out. It sounds so freaking sincere. It sounds so honest and for some reason that makes me hurt all the more. I don't know what to say. I don't know exactly what to feel. The emotions well up and flit by me so fast I don't have enough time to distinguish between them. That was until one finally settled on the number one Kairi-emotion pedestal: anger.

"Kairi, I'm sor-"

"-Get out."

"What?"

"_Get out_!" I scream.

"I'm trying to apologize to you, damn it!" Roxas protested, dodging when I suddenly had the decency to swing at him.

"You've got _some_ nerve!" I growl out, struggling against his hand when he decides to hold my arms still. "Coming here and – and bringing me some stupid cake. As if I'd eat that! Naminé is gone! She's gone! And it's all your fault!"

"You need to calm down."

"You need to get the fuck out of my house!" I snarled. Roxas immediately lets go of my arms. He backs away a safe distance and the sudden loss of contact leaves me slightly shocked. I glance up at him, ready to pounce, but he's staring at me with that _wounded_ expression. I'm reminded of Sora. And that baffles me.

"I – I just really need to talk to you Kairi. About things." Roxas explains, watching me carefully. The whole Sora comparison has calmed me down a great deal. Maybe it's because in my head, Sora equals safe, so perhaps this situation may be safe… emphasis on the _may be_. "About us."

Screw that _may be_! This was so not safe! I need to get out of here! I need to –

"I know that you probably don't want anything to do with me but I don't care!"

"See that's the problem with you, you _don't_ care, Roxas." I say nastily. He visibly flinches at my tone.

"That's not true." He protests stubbornly.

"And I – I care _so_ much."

"That's not true, Kairi!" He yells furiously. His voice stops my speech. I fall silent at his fuming frame. He looks like he's about to hit something. I wouldn't doubt he'd do it either. It's _Roxas_. The blond glares at me, but it's not really a glare. There's still the striking resemblance to that wounded look. He's hurt. I've hurt Roxas Strife. I didn't even think that was possible. "God, you have _no_ idea! You don't have a single fucking clue, do you Kairi? You think I'm the oblivious one? You're blind! You're so blind it's ridiculous!"

"What are you even talking about?" I ask suspiciously, as his tantrum rages on.

"I love you." He practically spits out. It sounds harsh and angry and horrible rolling out of his mouth. "I love you to pieces, okay?"

Did I hear correctly? My brain turns fuzzy.

"I'm sorry, what?" I question, blinking rapidly. I feel dizzy and this urge to sit down grips me. I want – I want to be back on my bed, and process this. What did he say? It feels like his whole statement has been censored like they do on T.V.

"I'm in love with you." He says voice uneven. Roxas is still riled up. His eyes are blazing and look as if they're on fire. There isn't an ounce of this love he speaks of in his eyes. And I think that's the major reason why I'm so confused. He looks like – like he hates me right now. "I've been in love with you ever since we were seven years old."

I blink again, the words finally beginning to process in my sluggish mind. He – he loves me?

_That's not possible._

"Are you going to say anything? Isn't this the stupid little confession you've been dreaming of?" He asks nastily.

"You – you can't say that to me!" I finally mutter out. "After all that crap you put me through, you honestly think you even deserve to say that to me? You don't love me. People who love each other don't make the other suffer."

Roxas laughs dangerously. "It sucks doesn't it? Now try living with that for ten years."

"So what."

He lets out scoff, followed by another roll of incredulous laughter. There's still that dangerous, wild look in his eyes. And I'll admit it was starting to scare me a little.

"You're a _hypocritical_ bitch."

I can't take it anymore; I can feel another round of tears start to build up. This is getting ridiculous. How – how dare he say that! To me, of all people! I open my mouth to tell him so, but he cuts in quickly.

"So, no, you can't just say _so what_ to me. After everything, every single thing you put me through for the past decade." He says furiously. "I've – I've _cried_ over you, do you realize how fucking horrible that feels? How stupid and how much I hated myself for even feeling that way about you? I've tried burying these feelings away because it wasn't doing me any good. You never looked twice my way. _Never_. And I was the fucking pathetic little sap that would follow you around like a stupid puppy." He paused, to swallow thickly. He ran a hand through his hair and looked away. But I did not miss the way he wiped his eyes with his other hand. "I resented you for making feel this – this _weak_. And I changed. I started not giving a fuck. I closed off everything – every fucking feeling so I wouldn't have to love you. It wasn't worth it, to feel all the pain that came with it. I hated you. Or at least, I tried telling myself that but you were so infuriating. Always creeping up inside my heart. Distractions weren't enough and then you had to go and ruin everything by saying that at the party."

He turns to look back at me, that same blazing look in his watery eyes. "I didn't know what to do or say. You, the girl of my dreams, was confessing her love for me? It was unbelievable. I would've taken you right there on the spot. But I didn't. I refused to feel like _a fucking slave to my emotions_ ever again. I didn't want to hurt anymore. My heart, it couldn't take any more breakage-"

"-So you break _mine_ instead?" I interrupt when I find my voice. He looks at me. The silence is enough of a confirmation. "That's just – fucked up – no, no it's _sick_! Who does that? You're, you're-"

"-I was scared. You had the power to make me the happiest guy in the world, and you also had the power to crush me into shit. Do – do you even get how, how much it hurts to be so invested in someone that when you realize that it'll never work out your whole world just crumbles down on you?"

"You!" I stammer out. "You, that's exactly what _you_ do to _me_."

Roxas swallows thickly. He looks away from me. My heart is beating like crazy because it feels like this is it. We're both at the tip of a steep peak, and whatever more we say can tip the other over. I want him to fall off – so badly. But I don't think I have it in me to push him. He'll push me before I do that to him.

"I'm sorry." The blond glances back at me. His expression has changed. It's soft and not in flames. His watery eyes are even softer. He looks gentle, and I'm reminded of the times he would comfort me. His cupcakes, his smiles, his sweet words. "I'm sorry for everything. I thought I could – I could fight this, but I don't want to fight anymore. I can't stay away from you."

A small, bitter smile graces his lips.

The smile does wonders on me, quelling my anger. It shouldn't have surprised me that I felt a tiny sense of relief at seeing the smile. Or the way I feel the corner of my lips tilt. It's ridiculous, it's unbelievable, it's crazy and incomprehensive. But that's what we were.

He closes the gap between us in three strides. His hands are gently placed on my waist. There's something in his gaze that comforts me. Stupidly I realize that that unreadable expression on his face is none other than affection. Affection, doting, loving. I never understood it because I never related Roxas to any of those things. Roxas and affection never went well together in a sentence.

He inches his head lower so that we're at eye level, before he leans his forehead against mine. It's warm. And the slight brush of his blond bangs feels so irresistibly feathery soft.

"I love you." He breathes out. He sounds and looks so vulnerable. Scared, even. For the first time in my life, I have the ability to be in control. I have the power to hurt him just as badly as he has done to me. I have the power to say sweet things to him, and leave him hanging the next second. I have the power to crush him. But I don't have _will_ to do it. Even if I wanted to, I never would have done it because –

"I love you." I repeat the statement softly. It feels surprisingly pleasant rolling out of my mouth. And the blush forming on his face is even more pleasant. It's a fucking masterpiece.

His breath beats against my lips, enticing me to just close the gap between us. It's not like I never kissed anyone before, there was that time with Hayner… but this is a Calvin Kline model here. This is Roxas. This is the guy I'm head over heels in love with. And he's inching closer to me. The anticipation nearly kills me.

When his lips brush against mine I can feel every doubt, every insecurity, every ounce of anger I've ever held towards him gets thrown out the window. Because this was worth it. Oh, god this was so worth it. My heart feels like it's aching in a good way. The feeling of it swelling so much that there really isn't any room left in my chest.

His lips are smooth as they nervously move against mine. It's not even pathetic that I think this is so magical. That I want my foot to pop up, but I'm too preoccupied with his moving lips.

His hands move from my waist and rest on the small of my back. It's so tender. The way he holds me against him. My hands automatically reach for his neck, bringing his face closer. I don't think it's possible for our faces to get even closer. I mean my nose was practically pressed up against his cheek.

A soft groan comes from one of us. I'm not even sure who it was, but it doesn't matter. We're so in synch that it could've been both of us. Roxas's lips suddenly part and I feel his teeth scrape against my bottom lip, prompting me to part my own. And I comply way too easily. His tongue brushes against the inside of my mouth, sending an unnaturally heavy and heated chill throughout my body. I can feel the kiss turning a different direction. It's desperate and hot and primal. I can feel every ounce of arousal underlying each swipe of his tongue.

He's everywhere, enveloping me in a world I always dreamed of being a part of. I can feel him, as he moves away from my mouth, leaving a very familiar trail down my jaw line and neck. I hear his heavy breathing against my ear and soft words that make my legs turn to jelly.

His exploring is short lived, because I crash my lips against his again. The same belly flopping, heart aching, hot chill feeling washes over me as my lips run over his. Like two puzzle pieces fitting together.

Roxas's hands fist around the material of my shirt, before smoothing it out. He pulls away suddenly, hands moving away from my back. I let out an unconscious whimper of protest at the lack of kissing. I open my eyes to give him a confused glance, until they suddenly fall on his hands that are on the top button of his collared shirt. He undoes the first button, shooting me a questioning glance.

I don't know what my face looks like, because he suddenly stops.

"Sorry.. I just…" He's flustered now. And I'm – I'm frozen on the spot. I know what's going to happen if he continues. It almost seems unreal. My parents are conveniently gone. Roxas is here. Roxas loves me. I love him. Was this all planned out by fate? I don't know.

The only thing I know is that I want it just as much as he probably does. And I know that when it comes to Roxas, I really have no self-control.

I push his hands away, when he tries to re-button it. I hold his gaze, trying to convey a silent message like I did in the cafeteria that day, what felt like forever ago. Roxas's eyes narrow studying me.

_I want to._

"Let me." I whisper, training my eyes on the buttons, as one by one I undo them. I can feel that heavy gaze on me. It makes my core quiver and the flush become apparent on my face. His fingers find their way to the hem of my shirt, before lifting it off in one swift movement.

A cold shiver runs through me, as we both size each other up. His warm hands coax me closer to him.

And then I'm gone.

.

.

There's a soft smile on my face as I finally stir. My hands automatically reach for the warm body I know is next to me, but my fingertips brush against sheets. The smile drops, as I open my eyes and scan the room.

A wave of panic hits me, but then my eyes catch sight on him, bending over to pick his belt off the floor. He – he didn't leave. It's kind of sad how shocked I am with that knowledge. He actually stayed.

I study his back, it's bare and oh god, are those scratch marks? I feel my face turn crimson. The feeling doesn't last long because something suddenly feels off. What was he doing there and not in my bed?

He doesn't look at me as he puts his belt through the loops of his jeans (that I've just realized he's wearing).

"W-what are you doing?" I question. Roxas stiffens instantly, before slowly turning around. His expression is unreadable and not in the affectionate way. It's distant.

"I have to go." He whispers.

I sit upright, my hands fumbling around the floor for my shirt and slip it on. "No! You can't just do that. You can't just – just come here and then dump me afterwards."

"I'm sorry-"

"-You are not leaving me _again_." I threaten, standing up. He's buttoning his shirt now, nonchalantly. As if – as if he were getting ready for school. "I just – we just – I mean you can't leave me here after-"

"Kairi, I thought I could do this but I can't." Roxas mutters stonily.

"Please." I'm crying. I don't even realize it. My chest feels like it's caving in. I can't breathe. I can't – I can't breathe and he's just watching me with that damn unemotional expression. My breathing is heavy and laborious as I try to get oxygen into my choking lungs. "Please, I – I need you."

My world is spinning. Roxas is starting to become a big blur. And he doesn't care!

"I-I _can't_."

He's at the door now, watching me. I don't know what to do or stay. I'm practically begging, _pleading_ with him. I don't think I can handle any more rejection. I don't think I can survive it. Doesn't he understand?

"I love you." My voice is cracking. It's pathetic, but I'm desperate.

He's pushing me off of the peak, crushing my grip one finger at a time. And I'm letting him. Roxas shakes his head before, opening my bedroom door.

"If you leave, I will _never_ forgive you!" I shriek, causing him to hesitate. It's slight, but he hesitates. And then –

"Bye, Kairi."

When the door closes, I throw the nearest thing at it. The alarm clock. It shatters at the door. The broken machine prompts me to tear up more stuff. Because I'm hurt, devastated, angry. I'm heartbroken. And nothing is going to repair it. My foot collides with bed post.

The physical pain doesn't even compare to the raging war inside my torn up heart.

He's gone and I'm entirely convinced I've gone crazy.

So crazy that I promise myself I will never feel this way again.

_I'd rather die than let him hurt me again._

.

.

**Yeah…this was a pretty intense chapter. Please hold the tomatoes for now and shoot them at Roxas. This will be the last chapter in Kairi's POV (either for now, or forever, haven't decided yet). Reviews are loved and appreciated, tremendously so.**

**Thank you for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Well, I'm not dead that's for sure. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Things have just been busy and my inspiration was wavering. Good news is, it's back - I'm back full-force. Bad news, this chapter is ridiculously, and disgustingly short. I apologize. Think of it as a prologue to Roxas's POV. **

**In other news, the author (random third person) is quite depressed because she has to wait 6 weeks until the new Glee episode. Sigh. Quinn :/  
><strong>

**Anyway, the point is, enjoy! (apologies for any typos, spelling and/or grammatical errors).  
><strong>

**.**

**.  
><strong>

_Who will love you?_

_._

_.  
><em>

"_Love_ isn't supposed to come with incentives, Roxas. It just is." The blonde whispered, as she curled up on the computer chair. "And it comes out of nowhere, when you least expect it. You can never really make that feeling go way. It'll come and go as it pleases."

"I feel like I'm in for a downfall and I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do!"

"_Don't look down."_

.

.

I remember it clearly. It was a hot, annoyingly sunny day and my fingers were sticky from that sea salt ice cream I ate. I remember because it was the reason Kairi wouldn't grab my hand. We were seven and I convinced her to follow me up to the higher end of the jungle gym. It was a bad idea. Her parents clearly told her not to go climbing up and yet she followed me. I was so excited that I didn't realize Kairi was struggling to keep up. I didn't notice her fumbling with the bars. And when I did, she wouldn't grab my sticky hand. I remember her terrified scream, I remember the horrible thud that followed after, and I swear I can still feel that wave of utmost panic when I remember that event. The disgusting self-loathing feeling I felt when I watched her parents drive her to the hospital. The helpless feeling when I heard the whimper escape her lips as the doctor stitched up the left side of her forehead. That bubbling relief coursing through my body, when she happily accepted the lollipop from the nurses. And even the ridiculous surge of affection and adoration that threatened to overflow when she offered me a lick.

It was the turning point in the way I viewed my best friend forever. I remember it clearly, because that was the day I fell in love with my best friend.

I never exactly realized what these feelings meant until later on. And then I strived to get her attention all the time. I pushed away my brother in order to keep her to myself. I glared daggers at that stupid pretty boy, Riku, who asked her to the Junior High dance one year. I even tried (unintentionally) sabotaging her relationship with her first boyfriend, Tidus (and I still _hate_ that guy!). I was smitten and I didn't care about any of the repercussions.

It didn't faze me… at first. But after a while, the feelings – the unrequited feelings – became tiring and then it just _hurt_. Kairi was painfully oblivious. And I was so very desperately in love with her.

I began to hate her. Or at least I _wanted_ to. It was much easier to hate someone. But it was even easier to be uncaring. Because hate really isn't the opposite of love. Not giving a fuck is.

.

.

My legs are stiff, when I finally reach the pathway towards my house. I can still smell her on my clothes, and it sends my stomach into a tight coil. I just want to forget about the night before. Just not think about it. At all. It makes me sick and I'm almost tempted to throw up in my mom's favorite bushes.

I stop once I reach the door hesitating. I dig into my pocket, pulling out my phone. The first thing I notice is the lack of a text message or even a stupid call. It stings. But I quickly ignore the feeling and check the time. It's almost ten. I take a deep breath, and carefully turn the doorknob.

The hallway is empty and the house is quiet. Good, no one's awake yet –

"You're just getting in?" Sora's accusing voice shatters any notion of sneaking up into my room. With disgruntled sigh, I turn to look at him. I chew the inside of my cheek, regarding my brother with a cool expression.

"Yeah, so?" I snap coldly. He studies me – his eyes dipping lower and I suddenly feel very self-conscious. The way his eyes narrow angrily has me convinced that he can practically see Kairi all over me. I swallow thickly, rubbing my neck nervously (but really I'm feeling for any bruised skin).

"Where _were_ you?" His tone is dripping with frustration. It sets me on edge. I really don't need to deal with his shit right now. Not when I feel like I'm going to break down at any moment.

"I wasn't aware I needed to give you a play-by-play."

"Shut up." He sneers. I watch as he walks closer towards me. "I know you were with _Kairi_."

My gaze turns sour as I glare at him. He's not that much taller than me, if anything his hair gave him a boost in the height department. "You're an idiot."

"I can smell her all over you."

"You sound like a creeper, you realize that?" I scoff, as I push past him and head upstairs.

"Stay away from her, Roxas!"

_You think I don't know that already?_

Once I get inside, I turn slam the door loudly (completely abandoning the idea of sneaking in) and lock it. The room looks empty, despite all the crap I have lying around. Despite Naminé's doodles that adorn my walls, or the many pictures Kairi demanded I tack around my computer. My gaze then falls on the empty computer chair, sitting innocently by the desk. I frown at the chair, willing Naminé to resume her position on that seat while I vent…. But she's not here.

She hasn't been in that seat for over a week, and yet it feels like years since she's been in this very room scolding me.

My mind instantly drifts to Naminé's last stay.

.

.

It was the day after the party. She had stormed into my room, hair messier than a bird's nest and eyes shining darkly. The smile was already forming on my face at the wretched state she was in. I would have commented but her face twisted painfully, and the smile instantly fell. She pointed a trembling, accusing finger in my direction.

"It's rude to point." I said dryly, trying to calm whatever situation she was in. But she did not waver. Her smoldering glare was unwavering, and I suddenly felt uncomfortable.

"You," She stammered out shakily. "You _used_ me."

A cold chill ran down my spine.

"I was trying to distract you." It wasn't true. I _did_ use her. She was the perfect distraction for myself at the party. The rage I felt at seeing Kairi with my brother unsettled me. I lost it.

"Don't you dare lie to me!" She snarled.

"Why don't you sit down?" I asked patiently. I had it in my head that if I just explained everything she would understand. But for some reason, I think she understood quite clearly and that was what made her so upset. It didn't faze me. She just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She stared at me incredulously; her eyes flickered to her usual spot – the computer chair. Then, out of nowhere, she kicked the chair over. It knocked into the computer desk, sending the screen tumbling backwards.

"I hate you." She breathed out.

Internally, I felt like I was slapped in the face. But I kept my composure, staring at her with a steady gaze. She was shaking. Her eyes were unusually dark, and her normally well placed walls were crumbling into a mess. She was a _mess_. And if I wasn't so stupid then, I would've changed everything I said.

"I think you're overreacting a little."

"Shut up! You have no idea what a normal reaction is you fucking, emotionless bastard!" She shrieked, making me flinch. The shock overwhelmed me for a minute. Where did quiet little Naminé learn such horrible language? My mind wandered towards Kairi. An angry burning sensation formed in my chest as I thought of the redhead.

"Calm down-"

"_You used me!_ How the fuck am I supposed to feel?" Naminé interrupted, her foot colliding with the wheels of the chair. "I trusted you. I thought – I thought we were friends-"

"It's not even a big deal. We didn't do anything. You make it seem like I-"

"You don't want anyone to care, do you?" Naminé asked nastily. A wave of frustration and annoyance hit me at the question. "God, no wonder Kairi doesn't even know you love her. You're _incapable_ of loving _anyone_."

I rose from my seat in an instant. I felt my own body shaking with fury.

"Fuck off."

"Yeah, everything's a big _fuck off_ for you isn't it Roxas? Grow up."

"You don't understand anything, so just shut up!"

"Right. I don't understand a thing, because I wasn't the person you pathetically ranted to for the past five years." She retorted sarcastically. "I know everything about you and Kairi."

I shouldn't have reacted to her statement. It was true, but I couldn't help it. Roxas never just stood there and took everything. Roxas always had to react. I stomped my way towards her, dangerously moving closer. She stood her ground, glaring up at me.

"Why don't you invest yourself in your own love life? Oh wait, you don't have one, do you?" I sneered coldly. Naminé's glare wavered for a second. Her blue eyes narrowed, and in that instant I knew I had her on the tip of my finger. "Why don't you just back off? This isn't one of your little stupid drawings. You can't paint yourself into a picture that you don't even belong in."

The blonde swallowed thickly, backing up uneasily. The smirk formed on my face faster than the change of demeanor in the girl shying away from me. Her eyebrows furrowed anxiously.

"Sora doesn't want you. Kairi doesn't need you. And I – well I don't care about you." My voice was stony. I was lying. Of course, I cared about her. She was the only person that really understood me, through and through. Yet, I could tell she believed every word that was spewing out of my mouth. If the hands held up to her chest defensively weren't an indication, the tears forming in her eyes had to be a dead giveaway.

I knew the moment she ran out of my room sobbing that I irrevocably fucked things up.

.

.

The tight coils in my stomach twist even more painfully as I glare at the empty seat.

I dig for my phone again, my fingers shakily sliding against the touch screen. Once I get to the blonde's number, I hit send and wait. It rings, and rings, and rings and then I hear the voicemail. The phone company's operator tells me to leave a message and I'm tempted to chuck the phone at the wall. I don't want to talk to a fucking operator. I need to talk to my best friend, ex best friend. Whatever she is. The other line beeps, prompting me to leave a message.

"Naminé, pick up your phone, come on." I plead angrily. "I need to talk to you."

I repeat the process three more times, before I get fed up and throw the phone on the empty chair, pretending it was the blonde.

The coiling in my stomach travels until it reaches my lungs. It's so tight, that I don't realize I'm panting for air. My room is spinning in lazily circles that quickly turn into high speed spirals. I stagger towards my bed, falling short of the mattress and land on my knees against the floor. My hands desperately clutch the sheets, grasping for something. I don't know what it is.

I don't know what I want. I don't even know if its Naminé I want to talk to or…

My nose brushes against my shirt sleeve and…_fuck_… Kairi's there. She's everywhere. Even in this ridiculous world that's going through never-ending revolutions, she's there clear as a bell.

I move away from the material, and claw my way up the bed, burying my face in the linens. Anywhere but the scent, that just seems to radiate off of me. I just want to get away.

Deep down, I don't think I ever can. Her broken expression haunts me, like a ghost wailing in pain. I want the image out of my head. But I know I can't let go of it. I can't let go, because what happened before – it was amazing. My fingertips tingle at the memory of touching her soft skin. The gentle sweep of her luscious cherry hair. The muffled breaths in my ear. My mouth burns as I remember her soft lips. She gave herself to me, fully. The memory makes me so happy and so _sick_ at the same time I could die. It's been permanently engraved into my mind.

The thought gives little satisfaction to the fact that I want nothing to do with her anymore. Or rather, she wants nothing to do with me after this. And that's good. That's the way it should be. Naminé was right. I am incapable of loving anyone. I'm undeserving. And Kairi? She so deserving it _hurts_. I love her and that's why I have to let her go.

.

.

I don't go to school Monday morning. I don't think I can sit there in class, with the knowledge of my previous actions. Instead, I decide to ditch school and hang out with that girl from my Government class. I don't even remember her name and she's already leading me upstairs in her empty house.

It feels so wrong, walking up another girl's stairs. Not the familiar annoyingly creaky stairs in Kairi's house. I wince, ignoring that thought, following the brunette. Her green eyes flash mischievously as she tugs me into her room.

Her lips fall on mine the moment I enter. It's a searing kiss, filled with adulterated lust. I move my lips against hers, but then, suddenly, I picture Kairi. She's rolling her eyes in that typical you're-an-idiot way. I pull away immediately. My breathing coming out hard. That girl thinks it's from her kiss, because she gives me a sultry smile. But really, it's because I'm freaking out.

I can't do this. I don't think I can. It's like, how can you even bother eating dinner, when you've already had a taste of desert? Despite how sexy the kiss is, and how hot it's making me feel, it just feels short of something…_better_.

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. I can't afford to think like this, or feel like this. Like my heart is cracking because I wish it were red hair, rather than brown.

The girl stares at me expectantly. I realize I probably look stupid, spacing out like that. I suck in a deep breath, pulling out my best smirk, promptly turning the off switch on the stupid emotions department.

.

.

The phone stares at me ominously, the next morning. I'm tempted to pick it up. I'm tempted to call Kairi, even just text her… but I resist.

_Leave her alone, already._

Kairi is not in Government. I didn't expect her to come to school anyway. But it still hurts. I know I've hurt her and believe me, it kills me. But I know she'll get over it. She's _Kairi_. She's strong.

By lunch, I'm entirely convinced that she didn't show up to school at all. And I'm… slightly relieved, and admittedly disappointed. I know I don't deserve to feel that way, but I don't think it's possible for me to ever shoo away those butterflies that come up whenever I see her.

I resume my seat around the crowd of girls that already are waiting by the table. I see the rest of my friends shoot me a withering glare. I assume Kairi's been talking by now. I couldn't expect any less. One of the girls takes her place on my lap, but I'm only half-aware of it. I'm only half aware of everything. Of the girls flirting, of my brother's sad pout, of the hate radiating from my friends' table.

And then I feel this sudden urge to glance at the cafeteria door. When I do, the doors burst open. I have to do a double take before I realize who it is. Kairi Lockhart herself walks in, looking like the biggest unrecognizable mess that ever walked foot in this school.

.

.

"_Don't look down. Just keep your eyes on her."_

**.**

_._

**Told you it was disgustingly short. Anyway, reviews are lovely and serves to make the author infinitely pleased (sparkles and warm fuzzy feelings).  
><strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Ugh, I hate this chapter. But the ending was fun to write. But I still _hate_ this chapter. It's in Roxas's POV again! Sorry, if anything in this chapter offends you. I was just - eh, are probably typos, grammatical and/or spelling errors. I didn't exactly proofread again (doyy).  
><strong>

**Irrelevant News: Still Glee deprived. Ice Skating is painful. I kind of have this urge to place detonating bombs on my _wannabe_-Drama (student!) teacher's face. And Nutella is absolutely delicious.  
><strong>

_enjoy._

_._

_.  
><em>

_Who will fight?_

.

.

I sit up straight in my seat, directly knocking off _what's-her-name_ from my lap. She lets out a nervous giggle, but I'm not even paying attention to her, not when Kairi's looking like _that_.

I swear the whole cafeteria quiets down, as she makes her entrance. Kairi makes no notice of this – or she does… I don't know! I don't understand what's going on. I can't – I can't even comprehend exactly what I'm seeing. Was this really Kairi Lockhart, or some _skank_?

Her red lips are tightly formed into a straight line of indifference. There's a wave of detachment, as she walks through the group of tables, her ankle boots thumping against the linoleum. Her usually straightened cherry hair falls down in messy waves. If it were any other situation, I would've made fun of her, said she had sex hair… a cold chill runs throughout my body, leaving a pool of doubt at that thought.

_No. No way. _

She stuffs her hands into her leather jacket, regarding the gaping people with a stony face. I realize, with a nauseous feeling, that the jacket she's sporting…isn't _hers_. It's too big, and nearly swallows the ridiculously short skirt that doesn't even _pass_ as a skirt. Her legs stretch out beneath the hemline, looking even longer with the fishnets.

She swiftly passes me, yet it feels like it's all happening in slow motion. She barely even glances at me. Her are eyes smoky with the heavy eye shadow and I swear it's like looking at a ghost. Maybe I look like I've seen a ghost. Nothing in her expression gives away that she even knows who I am. It remains painfully blank.

Kairi walks by her group of friends as they stare at her with the same shocked and puzzled expression as mine. Everyone watches her, as she makes her way around more tables, and settle for standing before my brother. He looks as dumbfounded as I feel. His eyes dip down to take in her appearance, with a blush. The smirk that appears on her lips, stings the coils that I don't realize are forming in my chest.

"K-Kairi?" Sora sputters out. Her smirk widens and I – I don't even recognize her face. She doesn't respond, instead, she opts to plant herself on his lap. My brother instantly tenses, as do I, but for an entirely different reason. I probably look like a cat with bristling fur, as I glare in their direction.

Her smoky eyes narrow in a sultry way, as she regards Sora. And Sora, the idiot, is blushing like a schoolboy… well he _is_ a schoolboy. Her hands wrap around his neck loosely, and it sends a ripple of annoyance throughout my body.

The urge to rip my brother's head off hits me stronger than I realize.

Her hands toy with the ends of his hair, and my stomach is sick. I want to throw up. No, I want to throw up on Sora, who still has that stupid expression on his face. Sometimes it's such an embarrassment to be related to him. The large cafeteria feels ridiculously hot and nauseating – _humid_. It's so hot I think I'm sweating.

The air around me tastes horrible. It's thick and suffocating. I can't breathe. My throat takes in deep lungful breaths of air, yet it feels like I'm breathing through a straw. I feel my eyes anxiously tear away from the redhead, to the surrounding onlookers. Their eyes are wide and intrigued. It pisses me off. For some inexplicable reason I feel violated.

Like their looking at something private. Looking at Kairi like _this_.

And then as if reading my thoughts, slowly, people start to avert their gaze to me.

For the first time in my life, this attention is freaking me out. I rise from my seat in an instant, noticing the way, Kairi scoffs into Sora's neck. I swallow thickly, ambling my way towards the exit. I know they eyes are on me, so I make a run for it, when I'm near the doors.

I cough out a huge breath once I hear the doors close behind me. What the hell? What the _hell_?

My hands reach upward to feel my face, before I slap my cheek. Maybe this is a dream – a nightmare, and Sora's going to bang on my bedroom door to wake me up. The images from that morning burn in my memory. Kairi's heartbroken face. The smell of her skin and hair. _That was real. _

If that was real… then this _must_ be real. But I can't accept it. I can't acknowledge that. Can I?

Panic seeps through my veins. It's so tangible that I'm pretty sure if I cut myself, you'd be able to see the dread flowing out like poison.

My first instinct is to dial Naminé's number, but I don't do it. I don't think I have it in me to hear unanswered calls anymore. She made her choice and I made mine. And Kairi?

_I don't know… _

.

The rest of the day becomes a blur after that. It's like my mind still can't even process what I had just seen in the cafeteria. It's so distracting that I don't even pay attention to any of the girls who're flirting.

And Sora has a dopey expression on his face the rest of the day. As if he was some kind of special messiah. I don't know what I'm more sure of, the confusion I hold for Kairi or the _angry_ jealousy that's building towards my brother.

I don't really know what to think of this _change_. I give it a week. Of this, bad-ass wannnabe slut get up. She wants my attention. But I'll be damned before I give it to her.

.

.

My assumptions are proven incorrect, when after a month, _a whole month_, rumors started spreading around like a wildfire and Kairi's sudden dramatic attire remains the same. In fact, it's nearing a month and week of these kinds of rumors. Kairi hooking up with so-and-so, Kairi at so-and-so's party.

Distractions aren't enough anymore. Especially after seeing Kairi riding on the back of some douchebag's motorcycle. The desire to confront her becomes ridiculously strong. But the promise to stay away is even stronger. She's just going through a phase, I try to tell myself.

I try to tell myself that she'll get over this. She'll move on and she'll completely forget about me. I don't know what hurts more, the shit she's pulling now, or the honest truth of the future I've painted out for her.

What would Naminé think?

Frustration floods my head as I think of the blonde. She left. She's gone, when I needed her the most. She's abandoned the both of us. What kind of friend does that? What kind of friend just up and leaves?

I feel myself unconsciously clutch phone in my pocket. My fingers are itching to call the blonde. Tell her what's going on. Ask her for advice. Have her here as a bridge to reach the redhead that's spiraling out of control.

To prove my point, I'm nearly knocked down, when Kairi bursts through the girls' restroom reeking of cigarettes. My suspicions are confirmed when I see a plume of smoke trailing after her. Her smoky eyes dart to me, face impassive as she studies me.

"K-" I start, but am interrupted when the fire drill resounds throughout the hallway. Immediately the sprinklers activate, drenching me in an instant. The bathroom doors burst open again and a group of girls that are known as the school druggies fall out. They're all laughing in amusement. That chill, that warning chill, makes me shiver and it has nothing to do with the cold water falling over me.

Kairi's makeup drips down her face, as she smiles back to the girls gesturing for them to follow her. The gang passes by me along with that disgustingly sweet stench of pot.

"Kairi!" I call out incredulously. "_Kairi!"_

The sound of classroom of people freaking out drowns out my yelling.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

.

.

I don't stay at home. I'm restless. I need to burn off this energy. I need a distraction. Away, from Kairi and all the crap that I witnessed earlier today at school.

When I hear of a party down the street, it's an automatic reaction to go. It's a Roxas thing to do. So when I'm standing in my doorway, hesitating, it unnerves me. I'm never hesitant. I'm the reckless guy that does things without thinking. But…

Lately, I haven't been feeling like myself at all. In fact, I feel, just, worried. And Roxas _never_ worries.

The cold, December air is biting, as I open the door. I'm thankful that the house is just down the street, or else I'd freeze….or ask for a ride. Immediately, _ride_ associates with Kairi.

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts of the redhead. I do not want to think of her. This is the whole purpose of going out. Forgetting about her. Distractions. Girls. Booze.

I can feel the mask being set into place, as the house comes into view. I'm an actor preparing myself for the stage – the audience is waiting all. Kairi hated theater, I think absentmindedly.

_Oh, great! Stop thinking idiot!_

I zip up my sweater, burying my cold fingers into the front pockets. My mind is racing with questions, and most of them revolve around Kairi. Either way, I think it's inevitable to not think of her at this point.

I'm… at a loss with her. The way she looked at me during school – that emotionless look – is still burning in my head. What's wrong with her? Is she making a statement? Does she want attention?

The questions are nonstop. I get so aggravated at my lack of answers, that I kick the nearest beer can littering the house hosting the party. Momentarily, after the can clatters against the pavement, someone falls off the tree in the front yard, dragging yards of toilet paper down with them. When they hit the floor, a loud chuckle comes out of his mouth. I don't know why I get this sudden urge to kick them. Upon closer inspection, I realize that it's a guy, and that guy is my brother.

Sora giggles into the toilet paper, clutched into his right hand, as if it were the funniest thing ever.

"My bruzzahhhh!" He snorts, when he recognizes me. Maybe I should just kick him.

"Don't you have to work in the morning?" I question, prodding his shoulder with the tip of my shoe. He wriggles, like a worm, away from me. He's wasted, clearly. Which, I find… odd. Sora's never really one to drink. I'm one to drink. Sora's the good boy, the athletic one, the one that would never touch any _substances_ that weren't prescribed by the doctor.

"Dunno, do I?" He slurs out stupidly, clutching onto my foot. I kick his hands off.

"Why were you up in a tree?" I stammer. Another round of chortling comes out of him. He sobers, gazing up at me with unfocused, glassy eyes.

"_Kairi_ commands and I obey." He snickers back into his toilet paper. When I hear her name echoing from his lips, an irrational billow of rage forms in the pit of my stomach. It sounds wrong, coming out of his mouth. It's different. It sounds too comfortable. And it sets my skin in a boiling fury at the knowledge of _my brother_ getting comfortable with her. I'm so tempted to kick him in the face.

If it were anyone else, I would have done it as soon as I heard Kairi's name.

I breathe heavily through my noise, barely noticing the cloud forming in the cold air.

"You should go home." I mutter. He mumbles something in response, but it sounds like, well, _mumbling_. I shake my head, turning to see if anyone is watching. And that's when I see _her_. I freeze in an instant as our eyes lock.

She's leaning against the porch beam, fishnet fitted legs, crossed over. Her smoky eyes are shining, the light of the cigarette, reflecting in those unnaturally dark eyes. Her hair is tousled mess. Sora's letterman is draped over her shoulders, one of her thin arms outstretched to hold her cigarette away. Her other arm is crossed protectively against her stomach, liquor bottle clutched in her left hand. A tight smile her deep red lipstick adorned mouth.

I don't say anything. I can't. I don't really know what to say. This stranger is just staring at me and I feel like I should know her. But I don't.

Kairi takes in a deep drag, flicking the cigarette and turning to go back inside. A frightening desperation tears at my insides. The coils form again, my lungs are constricting painfully.

_Go after her! Talk to her!_

My legs suddenly feel heavy, as if I were trying to slosh through waist-deep water. The walk to the doorway feels like an eternity. And when I finally reach the door, entering the jam-packed crowd, it really does seem like an eternity has passed. Kairi is nowhere to be found.

Panic shoots through my veins, as I search around the crowd. Already, a group of girls have already surrounded me, begging for a dance. But I don't say anything.

After a while, I give up my search. The music is loud, and the girls on my tail are getting annoying. Might as well dance with one. Immediately that girl from Government is there to fill in the spot. She backs up into me, pushing down into me. Her head tilts back to lean against my shoulder. I'm only half paying attention. My eyes are still peeled out for the redhead. But to my disappointment, the only thing I see is stupid couples having no consideration for personal space. In fact one of the couples nearly bumps into what's-her-face-and-I.

I ignore them, directing the girl to move aside with me. Government-girl does most of the dancing. I nod my head to the beat, feeling so out of it. It irritates me how much she's affecting me. How much I'm investing myself in her again. It's over. Whatever the fuck it was we had, it's over. But still… she's roaming around this house in that state…

I quickly shake my head. As much as I hate it, she was wearing Sora's jacket, which meant she came to this party with him. Surely, she wouldn't leave him in his drunken stupor. She would make sure he got home safe.

A chill resounds throughout my body, and similar to that day in the cafeteria, I get urge to find the source. When my eyes glance upwards, I see her again, leaning against the wall. Her eyes are glued to mine, as she takes a long drink from the clear liquor bottle.

I stop my dancing. I don't even realize when I move around Government-girl to make my way towards Kairi. The redhead sets the bottle down on the stand for the lamp, beside her. She lifts the jacket over her shoulder again. One of her dark eyebrows cocks upwards, as she regards me with glazed eyes.

My chest aches as I watch her give me that alluring look. That _come hither_ look. I don't like it. I hate it. It hurts to look at. It's painful to watch. It's even more painful how readily I react to that look. I'm turned on, and it doesn't even feel good. I feel disgusted with myself.

When I stop in front of her, she leans up, mouth a hairsbreadth away from my ear.

"_Come with me."_

I follow her, as she leads me upstairs. She doesn't even wait for me, doesn't give me a second glance. But I continue to follow her anyway. The urge to talk to her is even stronger. I want to know what's going on in her head. I want to know. For the first time, in what feels like a long time, I want to be able to read her. But she's always been this white blank page to me.

Her fingers wrap around the first door she comes across – it's the bathroom. Well, that's not gross, I think, as I walk in after her. She turns, locks the door, and freezes me with that _look_ again. Her red lips tilt into a smirk, as she maneuvers around me, and jumps on the sink.

"Kairi-" I start, but her lips suddenly cut me off. It's cold and I don't feel anything from her, as she kisses me furiously. It's all lust. And under normal circumstances, I would've loved to hook up with someone like this. Someone who just didn't care to have a one-night stand, in a bathroom, at a stupid party. But this… this is _Kairi_. Kairi Lockhart, tugging me closer to her and wrapping her legs around my waist. Kairi, my best friend, whispering uncharacteristically dirty things in my ear. Kairi fucking Lockhart, the love of my life, undoing my belt, and reaching for my zipper with the least amount of emotion.

The bathroom suddenly turns stuffy. My body overheats in a matter of seconds. I feel sick, like I'm about to upchuck everything. This isn't supposed to happen. Kairi isn't supposed to shove her tongue down my throat. She isn't supposed taste like cigarettes. She isn't supposed to be hooking up in the bathroom!

Kairi's not like this. She's annoyingly romantic. Irritatingly and adorably sweet. She's the girl a guy's supposed to go all out when they do it the first time. I should be like, leaving a rose petal trail to the bedroom. I should have worshipped her. I should've serenaded her like I know she secretly wanted. God, I'm so fucking stupid.

Her lips are on my neck, at this point. Her hands are tugging at my jeans again. It takes every fiber in my being to push away. Because, despite how much I hate this and how much it's making me sick, this is _Kairi_. Anything she does wouldn't make me love her any less. Every touch, every kiss, no matter how detached, is from her. It still derives from Kairi and I'll take what I can. But –

"Wait." I blurt out suddenly, stepping away, nearly tripping over my pants at my feet.

"What?" She sounds annoyed. I bend down, lifting my jeans and redoing the button. Her eyes narrow distastefully at my actions. I don't notice that somewhere, between all the kissing, she successfully pulled off her jacket. And that white tank top she's wearing leaves nothing to the imagination. I swallow thickly, bringing my eyes back to her face.

"I – I, let's talk first." I stammer, fixing my belt. Her lipstick is smudged, and I'm almost tempted to tell her but I doubt she'd listen either way. She shakes her head, reaching for my arm and pulling me back towards her.

"Let's not." She snaps, leaning forward, but I stop her.

"Wait." I mumble, as she watches me warily. Hesitantly, I reach up and wipe the lipstick off. Her eyes narrow dangerously; as I let my fingers linger on her face. I want to take off all the makeup she has on. I want to so badly, but I settle for keeping my hand on her face. Instinctively, I feel myself cupping her cheek.

A strange spell falls over us. This moment, regardless of how brief it is, feels tender. It almost feels like how it used to be, before everything turned bad. I feel my chest ache, in this masochistically painful delight. Everything is one centimeter short of perfect. And I'm okay with that. I'm okay; I'm fine because it's _nearly_ perfect. My other hand reaches up, to push the hair that's fallen in her eyes. Then they trail back down to the other side of her face.

The coils in my stomach slowly unravel. The pain is easing away. The sickness is fading. Kairi's eyes are blank. They're blank, but not _unfeeling_. And I'm entirely convinced that things aren't bad as they seem. I hold her face in my hands reverently. As if she was breakable. As if one single move I make, will shatter her completely.

I don't realize it, not at first that I'm already too late. It isn't until I try to lean forward to press a soft kiss against her lips, and she roughly pushes me away.

"Don't do that!" She snarls, fury flickering through her eyes. It unsettles me, it freaks me out. Her eyes are flashing dangerously, _murderously_. And I'm left gaping at her flummoxed. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

Her hands clench tightly against my shirt. She's shaking, and suddenly a wave of anger hits me.

"What the hell am I _supposed_ to do, Kairi?" I ask incredulously. "You're not just _anybody_. I'm not – I'm not going to-"

"_Fuck_ me, just fuck me. That's what you want, isn't it?" Her voice sounds so angry and furious, but her eyes revert back to being dead, in less than a second. She's looking at me, but she's not _seeing_ me anymore.

I can't even see her anymore. She's a blank slate and I can't fucking see her anymore!

I feel my eyes sting as I watch her. She scoffs, jumping off the sink and throwing her jacket on. My face turns hot, as my vision blurs over. I know what's coming and I'm relieved that Kairi's not looking my way anymore.

"I'll find someone else then." She mutters, her boots thumping against the tile. "When did you turn into such a pussy?" She laughs, throwing the door open. The music pours in, but it sounds as if I were underwater. My hearing is muffled. My head is spinning. My chest feels like it's ripped in two. And my eyes are burning, as the thick, stupid tears finally roll down.

Once the door slams shut, I completely lose it.

_She's already gone. _

.

.

I'm drunk. Even I can safely say that. My room is spinning, and I have a hard time locating my bed. My hands fumble around the phone, dialing the first number I can think of.

My eyes are red and sore, as is my throat from cursing a storm on the way home. My mind is burned with the image of Kairi in the bathroom. She's a stranger. I _hate_ her. She gives me an ugly feeling inside. The inside of my mouth still burns with the foreign taste of her cigarette smoke.

The phone rings, and to my gut wrenching dismay, the line goes directly to voicemail. Hearing the stupid beep makes me feel as if my whole world is crashing down on my shoulders. I don't have the strength anymore to hang up. I wail into the phone. I cry, I sob, I bawl _everything_ out. My feelings, my thoughts, the event that transpired in the bathroom. My chest feels like it's caving in. There's an avalanche in the depths of my body and no one cares! _No one!_

All hope is fucking lost. It's lost in the avalanche that's tearing and wearing my body down.

My phone rings in the next two minutes. A miniscule flare of _hope_ flickers in my chest. In my inebriated state, I answer it within the first ring.

"_Please_." I sob into the phone. "Please, I need you. _Please_."

I hear a thick gulp on the other line. She sounds serious and angry as she answers. But I can only hear the definite disappointment underlying her voice. She's ashamed, and I can hear it. The small ounce of hope shatters in that instance. The coiling in my stomach and chest spread throughout my whole body, recreating another avalanche. It's over. It's all over.

"What have you done, Roxas?" Naminé demands softly.

.

.

**Yeah. That is all, for now. Reviews are as lovely as Dianna Agron (and that's infinitely lovely to me, considering I'm going to marry her!)  
><strong>

**Fun fact: I was listening to "A Thousand Years" by Christina Perri (the most disgustingly romantic/sweet/sappy/belly-tickling/Twilight-fangirl inducing song ever) while writing this...that's some _fucked_ up shit.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Um, this was long overdue. Sorry about that. Lack of inspiration, then schoolwork came. I'm on vacation right now. No, actually, was on vacation. I should've updated this more consistently, but, I was..._distracted_. More apologies for that. Speaking of apologies, I'm sorry if I didn't message a thanks to any of the reviewers. I'm starting to get really, really bad at that -_-'**

**Feel free to throw tomatoes at me. **

**This chapter came out quite long compared to the others. I'm not sure if I should apologize for that, lol. I don't think so. Hm, what else should I say? Oh, language. yes, there's quite a bit of profanity in this chapter, more so, I think, in this one. Sorry about that :/ And sorry for any typos grammatical and/or spelling errors.  
><strong>

**Anyway, enjoy!**

**.**

**.**

_Who will fall, far behind?_

_._

_.  
><em>

**Chapter 9**

My mind feels like a fuzzy firby by the time I wake up. It's nearly noon and I can feel the weight of last night hit me the moment I rise from the bed. My head pounds, a nasty throbbing reverberating around my skull. I bring a hand to my forehead, rubbing it gently. It wasn't my intention to get roaring drunk. I just needed a lay, but that lay came in the form of –

"Kairi…" I murmur, the events from last night flooding faster than the pain. I can feel my eyes prickle in shame at the state of my best friend. She's being an idiot. She's acting like a brat.

I sigh, as I untangle myself from the bed sheets. I head to the bathroom. When I take in myself in the mirror, I almost jump. I look like a mess – not in the Kairi way, either. My eyes are blotchy red. And it looks like I haven't slept in days.

I drag myself out of bed, and downstairs. The coffee pot is calling my name, the taste is already in my mouth, but the sound of the front door opening stops me in my tracks. Sora, hair messier than his usual chocolate bird's nest, stares at me with spooked eyes. The bags under his eyes reveal the fact that he's probably just as hungover as I am. But he doesn't look annoyed, or irritated, or even angry. In fact, there's this bright little glow surrounding him.

A small smile tugs at his lips, as he greets me.

"Roxas." He chirps, nodding his head. The first few buttons on his shirt are undone, and his sleeves are rolled up. My eyes narrow, as I take in his slight strut as he walks into the kitchen, presumably looking for the same thing.

I follow in after, staring at him as he whistles, grabbing the coffee filters. He drops one, and instead of cursing a storm, he just laughs and picks it up. I feel a frown sink my lips like a battleship

"You're in an awfully good mood for someone who was completely wasted." I comment warily, as he starts up the machine. He turns swiftly around, leaning against the counter. The smile has exploded into a mega-watt size. It unnerves me.

"Hmm, really?" He shrugs me off, turning back. He opens the cupboard above the stove, fishing for coffee mugs. He brings out two. "I'm making you a cup right?"

A weird feelings runs throughout my body, it almost scare me. I feel like I'm left in the dark. He knows something I don't, and it's freaking me out. Sora never one-ups me. Never. He doesn't answer. It's silent for the short five minutes it takes for the coffee to brew.

I study my brother. His posture is too relaxed. The smile on his face is too lazy for him. There's just something off.

The coffee brewing sounds ominous in the quiet kitchen. Sora's smile is still annoyingly intact. He reaches past me, into the refrigerator to pull out the creamer, and that's when it hits me. The smell – that achingly familiar scent that's radiating off of him. I know that smell.

My fingers automatically grasp onto the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer to me. The carton of creamer falls from his hand as I drag him away. I sniff his shirt, ignoring the odd face he's shooting me.

"Where were you?" I ask coldly, already knowing the answer.

"Let me go!" He demands, gripping at my hand. "It's none of your business."

My gaze lowers, scrutinizing my brother as he glares at me. The dirty look doesn't faze me. It's not effective – the little fucker is _glowing_. It's that disgusting _post-coital_ glow. The glow that just screams everything and nothing at the same time.

His blue eyes avert, presumably because I've figured it out. A wave of nausea crashes into me in an instant.

"Roxas, _look_, things just got of hand."

"Shut up," I breathe out unevenly. I don't even hear him properly, or even the irritating coffee machine. Everything just sounds sort of muffled. The dizzying thoughts that are sluggishly circling around my head sound like they're screaming through megaphones. Several things race through my mind in slow motion. Naminé's voice, thick with disappointment, from last night. Then Kairi forms into my head, the memories from that night. The _intimate_ things. The next is that Sora, my _brother_, was the one that got to do those things with her. It's just – _fucked_ up. It makes me sick. The thought of him touching her, seeing her. The revulsion is unimaginable. It barrels through my thoughts into planning an attack. I want to hit him. I want to watch him suffer.

But the anger quickly melts away, when I glance at my brother again. Despite the angry look that's directed towards me, I can see it. Deep in his set of blue eyes, that he's completely taken with the redhead. That the boy is so foolishly obsessed with her, he doesn't even realize how fucked up she is either.

My grip has loosened considerably. The fuzzy muted sound plugging my hearing dissolves. I let go of his shirt completely, backing up. Sora seems puzzled, but still angry as he watches me. Probably waiting for me to swing. I won't deny that I still kind of want to punch him, but the poisonous pool of guilt at the pit of my stomach makes me resist.

"Roxas, I'm sorry things didn't work out for you two," Sora starts, having the decency to look sympathetic. I internally scoff. I don't tell him how much of an idiot he's making himself seem. "But it's over now, okay? I finally have my shot with Kairi. Last night was amazing, and – and I'm not going to just let you take that away from me."

The bile quickly comes up, threatening to break through my throat. I swallow thickly, watching as my brother's eyes light up.

I want to scream in his face. I want to tell him to back off. I want to tell him to stay away from my girl. More importantly, I want him to keep his heart safe from her. He doesn't understand. He never understood Kairi. He doesn't even fully grasp the drastic change she's gone through. My brother is setting himself up for heartbreak.

"_Go for it."_ I say softly, before turning and walking back upstairs.

.

.

When I see the familiar blonde hair in the coffee shop, a sliver of hope makes me shiver in anticipation. Admittedly, I'm surprised she even decided to show up. I take that as a good sign. She sounded reluctant to meet me today.

I order my coffee quickly, and take a seat across from her.

"Hi." I greet politely. She gives me a flat look.

"What is it you want from me, Roxas?" Naminé asks wearily. Her hands hold the coffee mug tightly. My eyes narrow in her direction as I take in her posture. She looks too rigid, too stiff to seem this calm.

"To talk-" I start, but she cuts in.

"I think we talked over the phone plenty." She sneers. I frown, feeling put out. _Feeling_ hurt at the negativity in her tone.

"Don't you care?" I stammer out incredulously. The blonde sighs, setting the mug down. Her icy blue eyes turn hard in an instant.

"You've both made it pretty clear you don't want me to care." She snaps. I visibly flinch at her tone. She's right. A wave of guilt hits me harder than one of those stupid hurricanes. I want her to care. I want her to give me that sympathetic look she used show. I want her to listen to me tell her my problems. I want her to pity me. And that pisses me off. It pisses me off even more that she won't even do any of it anymore.

"You're wrong – I mean _we_ need you, Naminé." I say thickly. Great. I feel it. All that emotional shit I've been repressing so much. It's unbearable. I'm pretty sure Naminé suspects as well, because her carefully serene expression shifts. I can see the troubled concern in her eyes. It's… it's _wonderful_ to see. It's relieving and hopeful. It's reassuring, because Naminé never lets me down. She's too caring and compassionate for her own good.

Because seeing that flicker of worry is like a godsend gift from heaven – she still cares.

"I don't believe you." Naminé murmurs, nursing her cup again. I sigh patiently. I didn't expect this to be easy. In fact, I expect it to be incredibly difficult. My fingers move against the smooth ceramic mug. I hesitate, thinking out my words carefully. Think before reacting. Look where that got me last time.

"Do you remember what you told me, the last time we had a _civil_ conversation face-to-face?" I cringe, when her eyes narrow suspiciously into little slits. I bring the coffee cup to my lips, prompting her to speak. Her eyebrows rise; she gets the hint.

"I've told you a lot of things." She sniffs, her fingers clench tightly around the cup. I wouldn't have noticed, but her already pale hands were white at the knuckles. I sip quickly and set the mug back down.

"You told me to keep my eyes on her, Naminé." I remind her. Immediately her _own_ eyes widen, before settling back into her glare, but it's a little too soft to be called a glare. It's a start.

"Well what do I know? I'm the outsider with no love life, right?" She snaps angrily. I visibly flinch, nearly knocking over my cup of coffee. A wave of shame hits me harder than the now forming stone cold glare she's shooting my way. I avert my gaze, opting to glare at the napkin in front of me.

"Naminé, I know you're hurt-"

"You really don't even know," she interjects. "So don't act like you understand what you put me through."

"I'm sorry." I apologize weakly. I don't really know what else to do, but apologize. Somehow it isn't enough, and judging by the look on her face, she knows it isn't enough either. "I didn't think – I mean – I honestly didn't think you'd get so hurt over a kiss."

The blonde girl furrows her eyebrows. Finally, her piercing gaze relents and she settles her eyes on the coffee mug in front of her. A frown mars her face as she stares blankly into the creamy depths of her cappuccino.

"I guess it doesn't bother me – or it didn't at first." She whispers. Her voice sounds so low, that I have to lean in to hear her. "I didn't really care that you used me to get back at Kairi."

I shoot her a look of incredibility.

"Okay, I _did_ care, but it wasn't what was made me so angry with you. Not really. It doesn't exactly hurt knowing you had the capability to use me, because I already knew that about you. You're – _selfish_."

I open my mouth to counter – to say _something_. But her eyes flicker towards me, rendering me speechless.

"Why didn't you just ask me? I would've – I would've understood. I would've helped you." Her voice suddenly starts sounding more like a choked sob. She blinks rapidly. "You manipulated me, rather than asking for something I would've voluntarily given you. It was the same with Kairi. When she went out with Sora," she pauses, the frown deepening. I feel the hopeful expression on my face melt away into anger. The memories from this morning burn into my head. His stupid smile. The sick feelings come up, and I nearly interrupt the blonde in front of me to blurt out everything I knew. But I don't, because I know deep down, if I do, she'll never come back.

"I knew why she did it. I knew she was using him as a distraction," Naminé sighs, letting go of her cup. Her hands rest on her lap."Because you _stupidly_ rejected her." She adds. The cold, stony gaze forms on her face, as she focuses in on me again. I wince. "But, like you, she could've just told me. She could've came to me for help. The fact that both of you just disregard the fact that I was there is what disappoints me."

"Naminé, I really don't know what to say." I admit guiltily. The blonde girl sighs again.

"You and Kairi – I know you both of you. Your favorite movies, colors, hobbies. Everything. I know what Kairi loves; I know what pisses you off. I know both of your families as if they were my own." She mutters, completely disregarding my statement. "I know the stupid, little things friends are supposed to know. And you? You both don't know me at all, do you?"

The question sends an uncanny shiver down my spine, especially with the pitiful look she's giving me. It bothers me, what she's saying. Because it isn't true. I do know Naminé. Granted, I don't know as much as she claims to know about me, but it still counts for something.

"I _do_ know you." I stammer.

"You don't even know my favorite color." She counters.

"That's not fair," I feel my patience wearing thin at this verbal attacking. "How did you expect us to find out all this about you when you would barely speak to us? If you weren't so shy, maybe we would know all this stuff you're using against me."

Naminé's lips twitch into another frown.

"I'm not shy." She says quietly. "I'm not shy at all. If you both weren't so invested in each other, maybe you would've realized that."

I sigh softly, glancing around the small coffee shop. Instantly, I feel my face boil over as I realize others are watching us with rapt attention. Some are even scowling at me. Well, I suppose the situation did look odd – did look like some sort of break up.

_Right, peg the male as the bad guy. Stupid double standards._

"What are you getting at?" I demand impatiently. Naminé fixes me with an incredulous frown.

"Prime example." She mutters to herself.

"Prime example of _what_ exactly?" I'm annoyed now. I know she knows, because her expression has turned smug.

"What little patience you hold for me." She responds, reaching for her cup. She takes a swig, eyes never leaving mine, and then places it back down on the table. "I was bullied when I was younger, that's why I have a hard time speaking to new people." She offers. "I'm not about to stand around and let you make me feel worse than they did, because neither you or Kairi will put as much effort into this _friendship_ as I do. I'm done. And I'm _done_ feeling sorry for myself."

The blonde plays with the rim of the cup. She's not looking at me anymore. She doesn't even look angry or sad – just kind of exhausted. I feel a little exhausted too. Emotionally exhausted. It's weird, especially since I didn't even vent to her at all. All the emotions that were building up inside of me sort of just faded away, leaving me drained.

"So don't – don't try and say you know how I feel," she whispers. "Because you don't."

It's quiet, eerily so. I can't even process the babble of the coffee shop, or the slight clang of ceramic mugs hitting tables. Finally, after what seems like hours, I clear my throat and straighten up in my seat. Naminé's gaze lifts up as she notices

"Naminé, I can't tell you how sorry I am. We've taken your friendship for granted. We've mistreated you and I feel horrible about it." I apologize earnestly. "I'm asking you to forgive me, and I'm asking you as a friend to help me. Kairi needs us. Both of us. _Please_, Naminé."

The blonde's expression is unreadable for a moment. For a moment, I feel like she's not going to say anything at all. For a split second, I feel like she's going to throw her drink at me. But, suddenly, she springs from her seat, grabbing her bag. When she turns to look at me, it's icy and chills me to the bones.

"Clean up your own damn mess."

And with that, she storms out of the coffee shop.

.

.

I hang out with Government girl for a bit. It doesn't last long – the sex. But I don't really care. I wasn't in the mood. I just wanted to go home. And when I tell her, she nearly throws a tantrum.

I'm almost out the door when she stops me.

"When did the almighty Roxas fall?" She spits out nastily. I ignore her, throwing the hood of my sweater over my head. My hands dig into my pocket and storm out into the chilly sunset air.

I'm home bound, for once. My own bed sounds inviting. I just want to sleep till I die. Maybe that would be an effective way to get people to stop being such assholes.

I was – _still am_ – angry at Naminé. I tried. I try so hard and this is what I get. A nice, big, fat _fuck off_. How the hell was I supposed to know the definition of a good friend? I cared. I did care about her. Does she not even notice? What kind of fucking friend leaves the other to fend for themselves?

I throw open my front door, directly heading up the stairs towards my room when something solid stops in front of me.

"Roxas." _Sora_. Should've known. The scowl forms on my face before I can even help it. Anger bubbles deep in my chest as he smiles at me politely. The urge to punch him grows stronger than before. I hate it. I hate seeing him so fucking happy. Like the world is cloud 9 for him.

"What do you want?" I snap harshly. He raises his eyebrow skeptically.

"What's up with you?"

Well, I don't know, it could be a lot of things dear brother. Maybe it's the fact that Naminé hates me. Or that you're just so incessantly happy. Or, perhaps it's the fact that you're fucking the love of _my_ life. But I really think it's because I want to kick your ass right now.

"What does it even matter?" I snarl, pushing passed him. I hear Sora sigh, and then his hand is gripping my elbow, dragging me back. I'm going to punch him. I swear to god, I'll sock his face off if he doesn't let go. Somewhere in his pea sized brain, he notices and let's go.

"Look, Roxas, I feel really bad about this morning," he starts. Immediately, the conversation begins to annoy me. He feels bad? Bad about what? I'm almost tempted to ask him, but his next words freeze me in my tracks. "So I was wondering if you'd want to come with me and Kairi to this party. You know, to make things less awkward and stuff, and make amends."

"Are you a moron?" I stammer. "What makes you think I'd want to be anywhere near _her_."

My brother turns scarlet in an instant. "Hey, I know you're angry. Take it out on me, fine, but don't get Kairi involved-"

I suddenly burst out into a humorless chuckle.

"You don't even get it, do you? Kairi's just using you."

Sora's face falls. "No, we're – we're going out now. You're jealous." He defends weakly. His blue eyes widen with uncertainty, as my laughter continues. "You're jealous because for once I get-"

"-_My sloppy seconds_." It hurts to say it. I feel sick as soon as the words leave my mouth. Sora is in my face, in less than a second.

"Shut up!"

"Just get away from her as soon as you can. Once she's done with you, she'll dump you." My words are harsh, and intended to hurt my brother, but there's truth lacing them. And I know he knows. With the way he's getting so defensive, I'm sure he knows exactly what I'm talking about.

"She likes me."

"She's fucking you." I deadpan. "That's not love."

Sora's nostrils flare, and for a second, I'm almost positive he's going to punch me. But in that same second he backs off. His eyes are murderous.

"Stay away from us." He warns, shoving me, and making his way down the stairs.

.

.

I don't listen to Sora – _obviously_. I deliberately go to the same party he's going to. Another party. Another useless, party that I can't seem to get into anymore. Girls try to dance with me, but I flat out ignore them. I don't even touch the bottle of alcohol someone drunkenly handed me.

I didn't come to get roaring drunk. I came for one reason. And she's staring straight at me.

Her blue eyes meet mine. It's hypnotizing, so mesmerizing that for just a brief moment, I forget where I'm at. Her cherry bangs are pinned back, her hair is up. The same kind of make up from last night's party marks her face.

I want to speak with her. I want to pull Sora off of her. I don't even pay attention to the way his face dips into her neck. Her eyes are holding me still, watching her ever so closely. It's like I've been frozen, staring into her Medusa eyes.

Once her gaze lifts, the spell I'm under lifts as well.

She dips near my brother's ear, whispering something to him. I don't know what. I'm too far away. The music is too loud. The drummer beats against his set as the rhythm accelerates. The brunet leaves the redhead. And she's there alone, leaning against the wall, staring straight at me again.

Her smoky eyes are hazy. I suspect she's drunk, but she gives no indication of being inebriated. She's as poised as a fucking goddess. Her lips tilt into a smirk, as her hand rises. Her finger bends, gesturing for me to come. Come fucking hither.

My legs are already burning to move. I'm just as pathetic as my brother.

I take a step forward, but something makes me stop. Somebody else – someone in front of me – is making their way towards the redhead. Someone much taller and bigger and fuck – _I know the back of that head!_

_Riku_, the stupid pretty boy that was all into her back in middle school struts over to the girl. I can't see his expression, only the back of his stupid _Pantene-enriched_ head. As soon as he's within distance, she throws herself at him.

It's disgusting. I'm close to throwing up. His hands grope her and it – it pisses me off, and makes me sick at the same time. He's touching her in all of the wrong places, and it's just so _wrong_. I don't even realize it – when my eyes burn. I don't even realize the familiar thick pain of my clogged throat. Or the tightening of my chest, the constricting of my lungs.

The loud, crowded room turns into a fiery hell, as she kisses him. His grip is rough, and it sets my body in to flames. My already watering eyes glance around the mass of people, hoping someone would see this. See this – this _calamity_. And then I realize it's just me. It's just me who's seeing this as a catastrophe. The whole world continues on, as my own crumbles, as Kairi shoves her tongue down some loser's throat.

That's when I see my brother. Two beer bottles in his hand, frozen a few feet away from the couple. His expression is stricken. He looks confused, but then a flash of anguish flickers in his eyes and I know it's over. He turns away, walking back through the doorway he came in from.

I don't know what it is that drives me to run up to the couple, and yank Riku off of her. It could've been all the pent up shit I was dealing with the whole day, it could've of been the jealousy that was poisoning my heart, or it could've been that look on my brother's face. Whatever the reason, I was set on one thing: kicking this guy's ass.

My fingers curl around his shoulder, as I pry him off of her. When he spins around, he looks dazed and there's lipstick smothered all over his lips. It makes me throw the first punch. My fist collides with his jaw with a satisfying thud.

I know I've fucked up something on his pretty boy face. I almost laugh when he glares up at me with a bloody mouth. His green eyes narrow dangerously, and then the wind's knocked out of me when he tackles me. I hear screaming, but it's very low compared to the music that's the only thing constant in our fight.

It feels good. Punching the shit out of this guy. It feels so good, that I'm laughing as I'm doing it. I hope it hurts him. I pray to god it hurts this guy. I want him to suffer; I want to dump all the stupid pain attacking me, on his unsuspecting chest.

I want him to feel all of the self-loathing that's been building up inside me ever since I walked out on Kairi. I want him to feel every crack and ripped up seam of my heart, in my heavy fists. I want him to feel that choking desperation, forming within my tightly constricting chest. I want to rip his heart apart. I hope he feels it. I hope to god, he feels every fucking hit.

I'm on such a high I don't even feel his feeble attempts at punching back. I'm invincible. I feel like a fucking lion or something. I'm almost tempted to growl, to _roar_, but I stop when my eyes focus in on Kairi. Her eyes are wide with horror. Her face is as white as a ghost. Her jaw is open – _frozen_. And in that split second, I see her. I see _Kairi Lockhart_. The girl who's my designated driver at my parties. The girl who drives me to school every morning, and brings me coffee when I'm hung over. The girl who doesn't condones this shitty behavior. The girl that I've been madly in love with ever since I was seven years old.

"_Roxas_, you idiot, stop it!" She shrieks. It sounds like music to my ears. It sounds like a song I haven't heard in years. The tightening chokehold on my chest loosens, leaving a dull ache. Her blue eyes are watering. Tears of a phoenix, healing all of my wounds. The panic in her voice sends a trail of hope through my veins like warm syrup. I relent, for a moment, savoring the sweet concern swimming through her expression.

And then, I feel something very _hard_ and very _solid_ collide with the side of my head. Suddenly everything turns to black.

"_Roxas!"_

_._

_._

**And that's a wrap. No, kidding! Um, reviews are loved! Loved, loved, loved. Thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Oh, hey guys! I know, I should've updated a long time ago. It's been well over a month. I've just kind of lost it, for a brief moment. And, anyway, I've just been busy with my outside life. Yes, it's incredible right? I do indeed have somewhat of a life. Rest assured, said life is slowly deteriorating back to fanfiction :D . All is well in the world. **

**I'm not too thrilled with this chapter. It's back to Kairi's POV. Originally this was going to be the last chapter, but I decided to write another. AND THEN THAT'S IT. Thank you, thank you for all the reviews, story alerts, and favorite story alerts! That's just so... ah.. I get all fuzzy inside just thinking about it. And I'll get better about responding to PM's!  
><strong>

**Random things the TA-PK feels like mentioning:  
><strong>

**-I'm still in Post Glee Depression. I can't even listen to "Don't Stop Believin'" unless I'm prepared for a mental breakdown. Sad stuff.  
><strong>

-**I'm still going to marry Dianna Agron. I regret nothing.**

**That is all. Enjoy! (apologies for any typos and such..and yada yada).  
><strong>

**.  
><strong>

**Chapter 10  
><strong>

_Come on skinny love what happened here_

**.  
><strong>

You know that feeling you get when you know something really bad is about to happen? Something so bad, but you just stand there and watch it all play out? And when it is actually happening, it doesn't even feel _real_. It feels like you're looking in from an open box. As if the contents of the box were some kind of alternate world you weren't a part of, yet there's some link bonding you back to the events occurring in that box.

And when it's over you wish _none_ of it ever happened. Because all you can think about is how things were _before_. Before all the things that are making your life a living hell happened. Before everything.

The blistering night air is chilling as I burst through the door. I can hear sirens down the street. The harsh breeze beats against my bear arms, as I try to rub some warmth into them. My breathing is hard and ragged. I can see it plume out in short puffs. I internally scoff at not bringing the sweater out with me.

I forgot to bring Sora's letterman. _Sora_. A dull sting forms in the pit of my stomach as I think of the brunet. A brief glimpse of his cheery smile flits through the back of my mind.

I abandoned him as well. It's a pity how dispensable as a jacket he seemed to me. It's pathetic, almost. And yet that familiar feeling of guilt never passes though me.

"Kairi!" An all too familiar voice hisses out from front porch. I whip around in an instant. There standing on the landing is someone I never thought I'd ever see again.

"_N-Naminé?_" I blurt out in shock. She staggers towards me, and that's when I notice she's trying to drag another unconscious blond with her. Recognition washes through me, draining the careful concrete wall I've put up. My stunned expression turns sour in less than a second. The sting that initially formed in my stomach explodes tenfold like a fourth of July festival.

Naminé grunts uncomfortably, lifting his arm over her shoulder. His head lolls to the side, and for one horrifying second he looks dead. Her blue eyes glow like a cat's in the dark moonlight. They're beseeching, and despite the resistance I've been trying to build, the look leaves a terrifying chill down my spine.

I swallow thickly, as I continue to stare at her, rooted to the spot. She tugs on his arm again. His head lolls forward, and I catch a glimpse of a darkening blotch on the back of his perfect blond hair. Instantly I feel a painful lurch deep in the pit of my stomach.

Before I can stop it, the memories of the glass liquor bottle shattering, the low groan, and the uncomfortable thudding sound as he hit the floor floods through my brain. Riku's satisfied expression and _his_ pained frown mars my mind. And it _won't_ leave –

"Kairi."

Naminé's voice pulls me away from the event that happened mere minutes ago. My gaze travels back to hers, and from the way she looks at me, I have a feeling she can read my thoughts. I take in her face all at once, savoring the calculating look she's shooting me. Because it's rare, and I might not get to see it again. I might not get see her – this probably isn't even real.

"_Help me."_ She whispers.

It's such a simple statement, even in the simple manner of carrying the weight with her, but it holds so much meaning. Especially with the way her eyes are boring into mine _imploring_ me – as if she were asking for something else.

I hesitate. The sirens scream into my ear and soon I see the bright red and blue lights appear. Naminé's eyes dart towards the oncoming cop cars, then flicker back towards me. My attention moves to Roxas as his head drops further downward, revealing more of the back of his head. It's coated with a layer of blood, dripping down his pale neck. Immediately I can feel the surge of guilt beginning to bubble in my chest, but I quickly intake pushing the feeling away.

"Kairi, please," she says urgently. I relent, and step towards her. She gives me the same calculating look. It's way too personal and way too familiar that, for a second, I'm unnerved. She's reading me. It just seems surreal and dreamlike that she's looking at me like that, that she's even _here_. "Come on."

I inhale, blinking rapidly, before I grab Roxas's arm and shift some of his weight on me. I hear Naminé sigh in relief, before we begin our trek.

.

.

The three of us come to a stop by a bright silver BMW. It shines annoyingly in the darkened area around down the street. I recognize the car immediately. I look at the blonde, who glances at the car with a surly expression.

"I wanted to take the train," she mutters, opening the back door. She struggles, as she leads me to lug Roxas in the back seat. I don't even cringe when I see his head bang against the door handle. "But my dad made me bring this monster with me."

She slams the door, as if for emphasis, and walks around to the driver's seat.

"Get in." She says, before getting inside the car herself. I watch her mutely through the window, my eyes flickering to the unconscious blond in the back seat. I breathe in silently, and get in.

It's a quiet drive – almost an awkward drive. I feel a nervous tingle inside me, willing me to initiate some sort of conversation. Naminé is silent, glaring straightforward. It's a little odd, watching her drive. For most of my life I was the driver out of our little posse.

I rake in her expression without giving away my curiosity. Her eyebrows are knitted together in frustration, her lips are tugged into a permanent looking frown. Heavy marks stain the skin beneath her shining eyes, making her look older.

She seems different, yet entirely the same as the last time I saw her. When she left me here alone. The thought flits through my head, as I acknowledge it for the first time in a month. She left me here, defenseless, friendless, so I could self-destruct. She left me here to burn.

I don't exactly know what hits me first, the shock or the familiar boiling feeling in my gut.

"Why are you back?" I ask bluntly, as Naminé drives. Her eyes never meet mine when she weaves around the cars, carefully glancing back at the blond in the back seat.

"Phone call," she murmurs distractedly. Something stirs suddenly in the depths of my stomach. Something akin to anger. I swallow thickly, reigning in the new emotion back.

"You left, and came back because of a simple phone call?" I question in a controlled voice. Naminé chews her lip, hands tightening on the wheel.

"It's a little more complicated than that, Kairi." She responds stonily.

"Let me guess – Roxas called you, and here you are to save the day. Where's the cape?" I sneer, much to the blonde's dissatisfaction, because in the next second her eyes leave the road to glower in my direction.

"I'm here to help – "

"You _can't_ help." I snarl suddenly. "You made sure of that when you fucked off to Radiant Gardens."

The blonde becomes silent, and returns her attention back to the road. I feel it – before I can even really stop it – _sympathy_. It burns through my chest, leaving me humiliating for allowing the feeling to come through, in the first place.

She pulls to a harsh stop. I spin around, expecting to find the car stopped in the middle of the street. But we're parked in the Strifes' driveway. The anger simmers, cooling down as I bring out the mask again. The chilling spell falls over me until I'm at a sedate place.

"Sorry, I guess." I say halfheartedly.

I turn away from Naminé who's staring at me suspiciously, as if she knows what I'm doing. My eyes glance over the dark house. The soft glowing yellow light from the second story grabs my attention. I know whose room that belongs to.

"Sora's in there," I mutter quietly, looking away from the window to stare straight forward.

Naminé hums in agreement.

"You should talk to him." I continue on.

"You slept with him." She accuses, except it doesn't sound like an accusation even though I know it is. It sounds more like a statement, as if she were stating the weather or saying her name. I blink, tilting my head to observe her.

She's staring through the car windshield as well. Her eyes are blank, almost as blank as I feel. She glances at me. Something flashes in her pale blue eyes that make my stomach churn uncomfortably. They're cold and icy as they narrow dangerously.

It's a challenge that I gladly accept.

"I did," I agree, my lips pulling into an involuntary smirk. Her eyes widen slightly. One of her dark eyebrows cocks upward skeptically. "Perhaps you should try it." I add, rather nastily.

It's a low blow, even for me. From the way her head turns a fraction of an inch away, I can tell I've hurt her. It's an opening, and I'm not about to let it slip. She doesn't get to win. She doesn't even understand the slightest bit of anything.

Naminé breathes deeply through her nose. Her knuckles grasping the steering wheel are ghostly pale. She's tense, and it's showing quite obviously.

The blonde turns back to me with a cold face.

"I know why you're doing this," she says evenly. Her eyes narrow again into little slits. "And you think you have everyone fooled."

My glare turns hard as does hers.

"And if I do have everyone under my beck and call?"

"You don't _fool_ me Kairi," Naminé snaps back. "Or Roxas, either." She gestures to the unconscious blond in the back seat. I feel myself glance at the rearview mirror, seeing his bruised face. The Calvin Kline model is going to be fired.

"Maybe you're wrong."

"Maybe you need to stop being such a coward." She counters. "You're acting like a brat. Open your eyes! This idiot is so in love with you!"

Something flutters in the pit of my stomach. I'm not sure if it's excitement or sickness. The feeling is quickly drowned out by the sudden tightness in my chest. The ache grows by the second, and I almost smack myself for letting that feeling slip through the crack, I've carefully knitted together.

I let out a shaky breath, hating the way Naminé is drinking my reaction in. With a final heave, I straighten up in my seat and push the pain away so it becomes only a dull ache.

"Why are you even here?" I question offhandedly. "Trying to play matchmaker? It's not going to work, Naminé, so maybe you should hightail out of here like you did before."

There. I bring it up again, and Naminé flinches slightly.

"I'm _here_ now, so let me help you before you both hurt each other even more than you already have." She pleads.

She just doesn't get it.

"I honestly don't care if I'm hurting him." I state, returning to staring straight forward. I can see the frustration sweep through her expression from my peripheral vision.

"You're lying." I don't miss the uncertainty lacing her voice.

.

.

I sneak back into my room without any kind of disturbance. It's a routine that I've become so good at over the month. My parents don't suspect a thing from their darling daughter.

Once I get into my room, the first thing I do is bury my face into my pillows. With a shaky sigh, I finally allow the tears that I've been holding back all night flow out.

It was stupid – it was a stupid idea to go to that party. It was a stupid idea to sleep with Sora. I groan into my pillow as the memories from that night fill my head. He was so eager, and ecstatic, and so fucking clumsy that he didn't even notice I was near my breaking point. I wanted to hate him. Such a silly stupid boy. He's probably in his own bed, crying his eyes out now.

A sting of guilt hits me before I can recognize it. And I can't help it. My mind flits back to the events at the party. Sora's safe hand, leading me inside the house. The polite gesture of getting me something to drink. Riku's cold leer from the other side of the room. _Roxas's_ captivated stare. I could see from the way he was watching – I could see how the events would play out and yet I still went for it. I _wanted_ to see it. I wanted to see the battered and bruised fighting I knew he'd initiate. I craved it, wholeheartedly. It set my soul afire.

I wanted to see the physicality of how he internally abandoned me played out on his perfect face.

And yet, when it was actually happening, that disgusting panic hit me harder than the beer bottle on his head. Fear shot through my veins, seeing him curse obscenities in Riku's face, along with unrelenting hits. That ridiculous concerned feeling became as prominent as the muscles and veins bulging with strain as he tightened his fists.

I curl into a ball and hug my pillow, knowing sleep would not come to me tonight.

.

.

The next night, I hear of a party, but instead of going, I find myself in the last place I want to be.

I intake a deep breath, standing nervously at the Strife porch. My eyes dart to the driveway and notice his parents are gone. Sora's bike is parked by the sidewalk. My spirits dampen slightly when I see the Ducati, mocking me.

I sigh again, before ringing the doorbell. The leather jacket is warm, and snug around me. For once I'm wearing my own jacket.

The door opens before I can smile at my thought. The smile never makes it half an inch, before it's falling into a frown. A battered Roxas Strife opens the door, looking as if hell had frozen over. A scowl manifests across his bruised face.

"What are _you_ doing here?" He asks, it doesn't sound as nearly nasty as his face. I don't flinch. I expect this attitude.

I let a cool smirk grace my lips. "Fucked you up good, didn't he?"

Roxas's looks puzzled for a moment before, something akin to sadness flashes through his eyes.

"We need to talk."

"We don't need to do anything." I counter quickly.

"No, we're going to talk." He says coldly, and before I can do anything, his hand grips my wrist tightly tugging me inside. I struggle a bit, as he leads me upstairs, ignoring my demands to release my wrist. Once we get to his room, he shuts the door and locks it.

I raise an eyebrow, watching him warily as he circles around the room. His eyes never leave mine

Roxas slides leans against the wall. He swallows harshly, wiping his mouth with the cuff of his t-shirt. His eyes are dark, as they dart in my direction. His eyebrows are knitted together a harsh scowl forming on his perfect face.

"I've been trying to talk to you forever." He mutters out angrily. I can feel the anger seeping through the tightly wound wall I've created. I can't react. I can't afford to react. Because if I let the anger in, I know I'd be letting all the other shitty emotions in as well. "Fuck, Kairi."

He looks down at the floor, bringing his other hand to his forehead. He wipes his face in anguish. It almost _hurts_ looking at him. But I refuse to feel anything for him anymore. I've closed off everything. Every single emotion just because of this asshole.

I swallow evenly, crossing my arms over my chest and looking away. It's pathetic. Seeing him like this is pathetic.

"I came to see if you weren't dead. And obviously you're not, so you can go back to sleep." I deadpan. He growls, glaring back up at me. The scowl on his face darkens.

"No! You don't get to tell me what to do." He hollers, shocking me momentarily. I think I even jump back a bit. He throws himself off the wall, and stalks over to me. "I should be the one telling you what to do now."

I clench my jaw, watching him with cautious eyes. He looks wild and angry. I've never seen him like that. I don't recognize the anger that seems to be building up in his tall frame every passing second. The blond trembles and I almost, almost reach out to him, but his sudden movement freezes me in my tracks. He lets out another growl before kicking the bed post, knocking down the lamp.

It shatters at our feet. A wave of fear hits me, as we're encompassed in the darkness.

His eyes are bright against the moonlight, shining through the window. It reminds me of that party from so long ago. The party that led to everything turning to shit. I don't realize I'm shaking as well. And I don't notice the way his eyes are watery, until he turns his face back towards me.

"What are you _doing_ to yourself?" He demands, his voice is cracking. I don't realize I'm starting to cry. Because I don't know any other way to express myself. My chest feels tight as every kind of emotion is begging to me let free. Pleading with me to fight against Roxas.

I remain remote, with the exception of the tears that are beginning to fall.

He takes a step closer to me, gesturing towards my clothes. His fingers brush against the top I'm wearing, fiddling with the strap in a mocking way. "Who is this person? This isn't – this isn't Kairi. This isn't you. Why did you do this to yourself?"

I don't respond, opting to look away from his angry face. He growls, and slams his hands on the wall on either side of my head, trapping me with his arms.

"Who _are_ you?" He asks dangerously.

And I can't take it anymore. I've lost against my emotions. They spill out and I can't control it. I shove the blond out of the way.

"I'm trying here, Kairi. I'm here, swallowing all of my damn pride that's been building up, and I'm telling you that I want to fix this. I _want_ you. I want this to work. I'm tired of running away from everything. I'm tired of pushing you away, when all I want is just you. So please," he swallows thickly, with a shaky breath. "Please just come back to me."

I back up from him, as he tries to close the gap between us. His eyes are wild and desperate when they flicker around my face. His hands reach out to touch me, but I shrink away.

"I don't want to come back." I mutter sullenly.

"I love you – "

"Don't you get it? I feel nothing for you. There's nothing left in here!" I shriek, my hand moving to my chest for emphasis. "Absolutely nothing."

His blue eyes melt away vulnerably. It sends an irritating sense of guilt through me. His pale, bruised face is pained as he shoots me a wounded look. A look that reminds me so much of Sora.

"I-I don't believe you," he murmurs.

"You did this to me. It's all your fault! Everything! You made sure this happened. You made sure you ripped every single ounce of anything I've ever felt for you away. You can't fix me because you were the one that left me here to rot." I don't even realize that I begin to cry. I don't even feel the trail of tears that have started to stream down my face. I can't even hear the quiver in my voice, or the occasional hiccups that escape my lips.

My vision is one blurry mess, as I try to move around him. The hands that were once firmly planted on the wall have loosened. Then, I suddenly feel something rough and familiar smooth over my eyes. My eyesight immediately becomes clear, and I realize it was Roxas wiping the tears away.

It's dangerous, the way his finger tips trail across my face gently. It almost feels like a slap to the face. It stings, and feels fatally tight. My insides twist painfully – _ache_ uncomfortably and I can't help the moisture that's accumulating around my eyes again.

"Kairi," he breathes softly. His breath is fresh, and smells of the toothpaste I know he uses. His nose brushes against my forehead, inhaling deeply, sending a tingle throughout my body. "You still love me, please just… _say_ it."

It's an involuntary reaction to move closer to his hand, that's now cupping my face. The flutter in my stomach that's masked by the aching is also automatic. The blush that's forming on my face is warped by the tears that are flooding my cheeks. It's a distorted feeling. Enjoying it, while receiving that stab of hurt laced with it.

"You love me, say. I want to hear you say it." He whispers softly, his other hand resting just beneath my ear. I feel his warm fingertips rub against my cold skin, leaving a trail of lava everywhere he touches. His thumb moves in circles, moving until its tracing the outline of my lips.

My stomach twists into knots unpleasantly, yet pleasantly at the same time. It's an unperfected feeling, something so twisted and demented I should push it away. Despite the warmth that's flooding throughout my body – the familiar warmth of Roxas's touch – it's quickly followed by the unrelenting agony that's tormented me since that morning he left me.

My hands, that were once planted on my sides, fist around the collar of his shirt frantically.

"Kairi," he pleads, and I just about lose every bit of self control I have left. My eyes sting angrily, as I whimper pathetically into his shirt.

"It hurts." I say through his stained shirt. "It hurts so much. You – you don't understand."

"I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

He looks down at me with liquid soft blue eyes. His eyes are blazing, and shining and smoldering all at once, reminding me so much of the party back in December. The party that changed everything. Why couldn't things be as simple as scowling at him from a corner? Why couldn't I have kept my big mouth shut?

His eyebrows knit together at my silence. "I love –"

My lips crash into his, in a moment of panic, a moment of fear, a moment of passion.

Fire erupts in my chest, burning the tight, constricting thorns into ashes. My lungs open wide, as the wave of fire rushes through them, bringing in the scorching heat. It burns my insides into cinders, burns away everything. Especially the cold ice that's frozen everything.

His lips move against mine harshly, enveloping me, taking everything in. They're hot and salty. Probably from the tears that are unwavering, and streaming down my face. His moans echo through my mouth like a symphony, a chorus of vigorous singers belting their hearts out. It's synchronized the way our sounds weave, and intertwine with each other.

My hands move up to his face, feeling the curve of his jaw, the bruises on his soft cheeks, the dark mark of his eyebrows. They trail into his gloriously familiar locks. The perfect blond hair all Calvin Kline models would be jealous of.

I feel his tongue trace against my lips, as if begging for entry. I almost want to laugh, at the submissive behavior he's displaying. It's silly. It's not Roxas at all, yet it makes the building heat explode like a volcano of – of _something_. My mouth opens without any hesitation, welcoming the familiar feeling, the familiar exploration. It's slippery and wet, as he flicks around my teeth, the roof of my mouth, the inside of my cheeks.

His arms pull me against him, fingers dancing wildly against the hem of my shirt. My own arms snake around his neck, bringing his face closer to mine. His hands draw out patterns beneath my shirt, making the skin underneath boil involuntarily.

It's hot. Too hot, that I'm losing my breath. Too hot that I feel like my heart is going to spontaneously combust. It's too much, that I'm the first one to pull away.

I feel Roxas's pants against my face that match my own breathing.

"I can't," I quiver against his arms.

"It's okay, it's okay"

His hands are shaky, when they lift up my shirt. His touch is too soft - too gentle, that it almost makes me want to cry. It was the first time I never had. His face is concentrated, as he carefully undoes his shirt.

His gleaming pale chest glints in the moonlight shining through the window. I shiver beneath him, watching cautiously as he reaches down to smooth his hands over my stomach. His touch is delicate, despite the size of hands and the rough texture. The friction of it causes me to shiver again.

"Don't be afraid."

"I'm not afraid of you," I whisper. "I'm afraid of myself."

His blue eyes soften, and a sad smile plays at his lips. "Let go. It's just me."

It's not the same as before. It's not entirely different. It's not innocent in the slightest. When is sex ever innocent? But it's so painfully wonderful. A mixture of something so innocently, and sensuously erotic. So achingly delightful.

.

.

The morning light shines through the bedroom window. I know exactly where I'm at when I wake up, because I feel and smell him everywhere. A low, uncomfortable feeling churns in my stomach. A wave of nausea hits me.

I barely make into the bathroom before I'm puking. It's not the good kind either (not that there really is any good kind of vomiting).

A surge of that chilling sickness washes through me, when I remember last night. I remember every touch, every sound, breath, kiss, and it leaves me in a state of vertigo. The thoughts sicken me. If it were possible I feel even sicker when I walk back into the room and see Roxas half asleep, feeling around the empty bed for me.

My stomach is in knots again. My chest aches angrily as I see his lips curved into that secretive smile. The smile disgusts me. I'm disgusted with myself. How could I let this happen?

The image is distorted – the image of the once perfect Roxas is ruined. It's not the same. It's never going to be the same.

Hurriedly, I reach for my clothes and quickly stuff them on as noiselessly as I can manage.

"W-what are you doing?"

The soft husky lilt to his voice stops me in my tracks. I turn hastily towards the door, hiding my stricken face away from the blond. I hear the bed creak, and I assume he's getting out.

"I have to go." I state automatically. It's quiet for a long moment. He's thinking, trying to understand what I'm doing. And then –

"No! You can't just do that. You can't just – just come here and then dump me afterwards."

"I fucked you, and you're the idiot who fell for it." I laugh bitterly. I scold myself to not shake, as I lie off my face. I need to get out of here.

"I don't – I don't believe you. You're shaking." He stammers, his voice is only a few inches away from me. I reach for the door, but he yanks me backward. My back hits his warm bare chest, and I can't help but tremble against it.

"Let me go!" I snap out angrily.

"Kairi, please! I-I love you. What more do you want from me –"

"_Just let me go."_

He relents, and I almost fall against the door. I don't look back, I don't stop to gauge his expression, I just open the door and hurry out. The world is blurry as I push my way downstairs and out the front door.

_I'd rather die than let him hurt me again._

_.  
><em>

_.  
><em>

__**Oh! The angst! It kills. It kills kittens! **

**Reviews are lovely. Dianna Agron is lovely. Therefore review Dianna Agron is lovely...wait, that sounded better in my head. **


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm kind of really annoyed with myself. Two whole months before I have the decency to upload. I just feel like a total loser. For that I apologize. I really didn't mean to make you all wait.**_  
><em>

**Originally this was going to be two different chapters, but I decided to put it together. It's longer, and after my failed attempts at updating, you guys really deserve a nice long-ish ending chapter. THIS IS IT KIDS! It's mostly in Kairi's POV, but occasionally there is some Roxas POV sprinkled around.  
><strong>

**Apologies for any typos and/or grammatical errors. (half asleep).  
><strong>

**Nyeahhhhh just ignore me for holding you. Go on and read!  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>.<br>**

**.  
><strong>

_Roxas_

.

"Well, I mean _you_ did that to her first." Naminé mutters reasonably, from her seat on the computer chair. I glower at her angrily. This venting session is not serving to fix my mood. In fact I feel even more livid than before. I want to do something – some serious fucking damage.

"Yeah, but that was before…" I trial off when I see the blonde raise a questioning brow in my direction. I growl and turn away. It's been two days since that morning. The morning where everything turned to even shittier shit. My chest tightens angrily and painfully as I remember it.

I was desperate. Careless, even, to try to bring her back to me. I should've known. I should've known she would've pulled that stupid stunt with me. I was the idiot who fell for it.

Anger burns through me, as I shoot up in my seat.

"Oh, I know that look," Naminé deadpans, casting me a dry look. "Try not to do anything stupid, will you?"

I curl my hands into tight fists.

"She just left me, what the fuck am I supposed to do!" I bellow, frustrated. The blonde looks annoyed all of a sudden at my outburst.

"Look, I get it, Big-Shot Manwhore Roxas was dumped after sex, whatever, but you need to get your head out of your ass and stop reacting badly to everything." She snaps, startling me out of my anger. "I know you're hurt, but you're really not seeing this with an open mind."

"Naminé, she _left_ me-"

"She did," she cuts in fiercely. I don't even notice when she rises from her seat heatedly. "Now that you're the dumpee, rather than the dumper, you have a widened perspective. What you're feeling right now is probably exactly how Kairi felt when you left her."

My eyes narrow defensively at the blonde, who's staring back at me patiently. It irritates me how much the she knows everything. Just once I wish she could be wrong.

"I feel like shit." I admit sourly, turning away from the girl when I feel that stupidly familiar burning in my eyes. It's worse actually. I feel worse than shit. "I hate her." I add in, falling back into my seat.

I hear Naminé sigh wearily.

"You don't hate her."

"I _hate_ her so much."

.

.

.

_Kairi_

.

My eyes lift tiredly up towards my bathroom mirror. A horrible mess stares straight back at me. Mascara running down my face, hair a complete mess. The sight makes me sick. It's a sight that is so different that how I used to be. It's alien, disgusting. A ridiculous, silly girl who was so desperately in love with a boy.

For a moment I revel in the self-loathing that courses through my veins. I feel the smeared lipstick burn across my face – burn with _hatred_, setting my bruised lips on fire. My eyes continue to rake in the disheveled appearance, falling shortly on the distinctive bruise marks on my neck. I can feel my chest twist and ache at the sight.

I turn away from my reflection, breathing softly through my nose. The scent that is unmistakably Roxas filters throughout my nasal canals. It's so strong and everywhere, I almost suffocate. A wave of unadulterated anger runs throughout my body. Fury grips me, holds me, chokes me, and drowns me.

The mess of a stranger glares back at me, unrecognizable eyes filled with hatred. It disturbs me. It makes me want to cower beneath my covers.

"Get away from me!" I shout, only to see myself screaming. The frightened look reflects back at me now, beneath all of the make-up, grime, and bites. It unnerves me the way I can see myself, how I can still see myself even if it is brief.

My eyes recoil away from the sight.

"Let me go," I demand to my stranger reflection. "Let me go!"

My fisted hand collides with the mirror. It all happens fairly quickly. The sound of the glass breaking, the brief high of getting to damage something, and then the _pain_. It ripples throughout my knuckle, and shoots up my arm in the next second, as does the warm crimson blood pooling down my fingers.

Dizzily, and distracted from the burning, prickling sensation on my hand, I glance up at the mirror. There's hardly a dent. Only a small chunk of glass breaks, conveniently covering my face. It's a shattered image of the stranger I was so desperate to run away from.

I slowly stare back at my bloodied hand, feeling a surge of nausea hit me at the sight of it oozing. _What did I just do?_

"Kairi, I heard screaming – what did you just do to your hand?" My mother's voice sounds far away, when I turn to look at her disoriented. Her face is white and panicked as she takes in my appearance, and then looks down at my hand.

.

.

The hospital visit is just a sort of blur. My surroundings are hazy, and I don't exactly remember what was going on. I don't remember the waiting room, or the doctor's face, or even feeling anything when they stitched up my hand.

One thought reverberates throughout my head, as I sit on the patient bed, or rather one _person_.

I stare at my bandaged hand, turning it back at forth intensely. The last time I was here, Roxas was with me, staring at me with worried, sobbing eyes. We were seven and it was the first time I had ever seen the blond seem so scared.

I shift in my seat, hearing the paper beneath me crinkle at the disruption. I look away from my hand.

I was terrified as well. I begged my parents to let him come into the room with me. I forced him to hold my hand.

Instead it's my mother who's tightly clasping my hand. I want to tell her to let go, but I don't. She looks beyond worried, and relieved all rolled into one. Her eyes regard me, when I stare at her reassuringly. I don't know how long I sat there in silence, before noticing her. I squeeze her hand, and she lets go, finally.

"What were you thinking?" She questions finally, breaking the eerily, comfortable hospital silence. I drag my eyes away from her hurt, pleading expression. She wants answers, and I don't know exactly how to give them. What would she say? Would she turn away from me?

My eyes catch sight of my reflection against the paper towel canister near the sink. I take in the tangled, dirty mess of my cherry hair. I don't hide the grimace when I see the dark make up stained against my cheeks, or the smeared lipstick. Would she judge me?

The question speeds through my head like a bullet train. It becomes so overwhelming that for a second it leaves me dizzy. Once I return to my steady state, a horrifyingly frustrated thought hits me. Why didn't she do anything? Why didn't either of my parents have some sort of fucking intervention? Couldn't they see? Couldn't they feel how much their daughter was suffering?

The questions try to form on my drying mouth, but I pause, when I glance back at my mother. Her eyes are beseeching and confused. A sliver of disappointment fills my chest as the realization falls upon me. She's completely and blissfully unaware her daughter's skydive to rock bottom. This is entirely my doing. I've caused this rift of ignorance between myself and my parents.

"Kairi," she presses, near incredulity. I move my gaze back towards my reflection. I've never looked worse before in my life. I've never felt worse in my entire life. My frown is still present, but I can feel a flicker of something that resembles hope bubbling in the pit of my stomach. But at least I feel like myself.

Perhaps cracking a bathroom mirror with your knuckle is life changing.

"I _wasn't_," I mutter, answering her earlier question. My eyes flash back to her. She stares back at me, frustrated. Her hand returns to its place, covering my own.

"Kairi what's going on? What happened?" The questions go on, and on, but at that moment I'm only half paying attention. Half paying attention to the concerned look in her eye, half paying attention to the pressure of her hand, half paying attention to the aching sting on my right hand.

The tiny, fleeting hope that formed in the pit of my stomach explodes exponentially. An inspirational understanding occupies the other half of my focus. The larger part. It spreads throughout my body, warming my cold insides, feeling like a nice hot drink of coffee after battling a cold night. My skin heats as if I were sitting out in the sun all day, rather than the pristine hospital room.

It's nice, _comforting_.

I revel in the feeling. It's good feeling, one that I have not felt in a long time.

It's going to be okay now.

.

.

I sigh, wrapping my scarf around my neck snuggly. My mother watches me worriedly.

"We don't have to do this now." She says, before I close the car door. I sigh, bringing my injured hand to my chest.

"I'm just returning a jacket." I respond. "I'll only be a few minutes."

I shift the bulky letterman safely underneath my arm, and shut the car door behind me. My other hand digs itself deeply inside my coat pocket. My breath visibly comes out in deep puffs.

The air stings at my cheeks, as I walk slowly towards the porch. The garage door is open enough for me to get a glimpse of the black Ducati parked carefully. A boulder of guilt plunges deep in my stomach at the sight. _He's_ here.

I chew my lip anxiously when I reach the doorstep – a few inches away from the heavy wooden door. I inhale quickly, heavily, before pulling my hand out of my pocket and reaching for the doorbell.

I press the button a few more times before the door is thrown open, and a slight wave of relief washes through me, when Sora Strife answers the door. I don't know exactly what I'd do if it were his brother who answered.

I shift my weight on my feet nervously. The brunet glares at me from the doorway. Okay, maybe both brothers aren't exactly the friendliest company ever. I cough awkwardly, playing with the ends of my coat. That's when I remember the letterman underneath my arm. I straighten up instantly, holding out the jacket.

"I, uh, accidently took this with me," I start, but Sora's disgusted expression makes me falter. "You – you don't want it?"

"I don't want that now." He spits. His eyes harden furiously in my direction. As if it's dirty. As if I contaminated his sweater. Seriously, grow the fuck up. I don't have cooties. "It's probably filled with STD's."

The insult stings, like a belly flop to water. Oh, well, right.

A wave of guilt knocks me over. I should be offended. I should want to beat him over the head for indirectly calling me some kind of slut, but I don't. He's not angry, not really. I can see by the way his eyes are watering. He's hurt, and that fact alone washes away any pent up anger. I've hurt him. I've personally screwed him over. For the first time in months, I don't even relish in that thought.

In fact, I feel queasy, dizzy. Briefly, I uneasily think that I may have to throw up. What a way to begin an apology. The award for _Best "I'm Sorry" Speech_ goes to Kairi freaking Lockhart.

I lower the jacket, miserably.

"I'm sorry." I finally say sincerely. I see a flash of something akin to sympathy flicker in his teary eyes. His expression freezes over again, and he takes a defensive step back through the doorway. The brunet's hand trembles on the doorknob. I almost anticipate him slamming the door in my face, but he doesn't.

The guilt is heavy in my sick stomach. I almost wish he would slam the door. I don't think I can even handle his nice guy banana republic model ways. Not now.

Sora's eyes lower, away from my pleading expression.

"I don't expect you to forgive me. I just wanted you to know that I am truly sorry for dragging you into this whole mess and – and for mistreating you. It was a horrible thing to do."

"It was never real was it?" He mutters sullenly. He tilts his head up a fraction of an inch to stare at me darkly. "None of it. You were just using me. You didn't like me."

I kick my foot against the porch uncomfortably. His eyes are like lasers, reading too much into my actions. I vaguely wonder if he's been hanging around Naminé.

"I'm really sorry Sora." I apologize again.

I hear him release a shallow breath.

"Get off my porch, and don't ever come back."

.

.

.

_Roxas_

.

I don't hate her. I think it's just physically, mentally, and emotionally (even fucking spiritually) impossible to hate Kairi Lockhart. I can get close though. I can get so close to hating her that it scares the shit out of me sometimes. And despite these feelings, that absolute, incomparable love always bounces back full force. It's nauseating sometimes too.

I guess that's just how it is with her. She's my soulmate.

I snort, as I empty the cake mix into the bowl. When did i turn into such a fucking cliché? _Soulmate_. My laughter subsides a little, until I'm smiling into the cake mix.

Kairi Lockhart is my fucking soulmate.

The doorbell rings loudly, breaking my musing. I stare down at the mix, my hands filled with the batter (because I couldn't help having a few tastes).

"Sora, do you mind?" I call out, towards the living room. The same spot the brunet has moped and depressingly vacated for about a week straight. I don't blame him though.

I hear my brother's footsteps, and sigh returning back to my work.

Baking is kind of lame, even I'll admit that. But the cupcakes work wonders with temperamental girls. And maybe, just maybe this time a little something extra like this can be the change in my relationship with Kairi.

I fix the trays, not bothering to make the cakes nice and neat, before stuffing it in the oven. I fiddle with the timer. Usually, this would be around the time that Naminé instructs me as to how long the baking is. I contemplate calling the blonde, but decide against it. They're going to come out awesome either way.

I hear the angry stomping before I turn to see Sora march into the kitchen. There's a fierce glower gracing his usually bubbly tan face. He brushes passed me, yanking the fridge door open. I stare at him in disbelief, as he snatches the milk carton, chugging it down in one gulp.

He wipes his mouth with the back of hand harshly. His overall obvious anger would be a lot more convincing if there wasn't a prominent milk mustache on his face. I hold back a laugh.

"That bitch," he snarls darkly, taking another swig. Now my curiosity kicks in. I lean against the counter, regarding him with a skeptical expression.

"Who was it?" I ask, pretending I didn't hear his curse.

"No one." He snaps, slamming the milk carton on the counter.

My eyebrows pull together as I asses him. He's obviously flustered, and in an unnecessary rage. It's kind of pathetic and annoying. The only person that makes him seem pathetic or annoying, or a combination of the two is –

"Was that Kairi at the door?" I probe seriously. From the way his eyes glaze over, and his lip curls defiantly, I know the answer immediately. Sora turns away from me, throwing the carton back in the fridge, and pushing by me. I notice the way he doesn't hesitate to half shove me out of the way. "It _was_ Kairi wasn't it?" I call after him, as he leaves the kitchen.

I rush out the door in an instant, forgetting the fact that it's fucking cold outside. I hurry down the steps of my porch, hoping to catch the girl before she drives off – except no one is in the driveway.

She's gone.

My phone vibrates furiously in my pocket. I have half the nerve to ignore it, but at the last minute I dig into my pocket and answer the call.

"Roxas," Naminé's voice flutters into my ear.

"Naminé," I greet, still staring down the street dejectedly.

"Where are you?" She questions. I can't help but notice that she sounds a little uneven – _frantic_ almost.

"Home, where else would I be?"

"I heard Kairi was in the hospital."

My stomach drops.

"No, no that's – she was just here." I correct. "Look, I'm going to go over to her house later. I'll sort all of this out."

I hear Naminé sigh in relief on the other line.

"You don't hate her." She says, before hanging up.

.

.

Approximately two hours later, I'm standing on the Lockharts' porch, holding a tray of apology cupcakes. I take a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. It doesn't take long before Mrs. Lockhart is staring up at me, and then down at the tray. She knows what's up.

I expect a smile, but I'm met with a frown.

"Hi-"

"Kairi's asleep right now." She states.

"Is she feeling okay?"

She looks a little annoyed, by this time. "She was at the hospital all morning."

Cold guilt crawls down my back immediately.

"What happened?" I demand, nearly dropping the tray.

"Injury to her hand, she's okay now." She said vaguely. "Look, Roxas it's sweet of you to come and visit and bring this, but Kairi needs rest."

I work a smile on my face, handing her the tray. "I completely understand." _My ass_. "Please tell her I was here."

With that, I turn and make like I'm making my way down the street. I dart behind a bush when she's not looking. Once the satisfying sound of the door closing rings through my ears, I head around the house, towards her bedroom window.

I struggle with the tree, trying to find a good grip on the branch, and then gingerly reach the window. This is the tricky part. I hoist myself against the small ledge, plant my palms against the glass, and push upwards. It gets caught a few times, but I crept in without a sound.

The warmth and familiar scent hits me square in the face, once I straighten up in Kairi's room. My eyes take in everything, noticing that it looks almost exactly the same as it did the last time I was in it. Except maybe…

My jaw drops open when I see the state of her bathroom. Dried blood stained tissues occupy the trashcan. The mirror is nearly shattered – well one area is.

Did this idiot girl seriously try to break the mirror?

My eyes swivel to the direction of the bed, glazing over the girl briefly, before zeroing in on her carefully wrapped up hand. My stomach flops at the sight, the way she holds it up to her chest.

"You're such an idiot." I breathe out, and flinch at the volume of my voice. She does not stir, thankfully. Her eyes remain dutifully closed, deep in sleep (I hope).

I study her. The soft breathing of her heavy sleeping. The way her other hand is thrown precariously across the bed, a blatant disregard to rolling over on it. Her cherry bangs flopped over her face. I feel myself smile adoringly, reaching out to push the fringe out of the way. Her nose scrunches in defiance, and she turns away from my touch. The smile falters slightly.

"I'm going to make it up to you," I whisper. "I promise you, I will."

And I mean it. I want it. I want it too much. Staring at this girl, broken literally and figuratively, I know that this is all I've ever really wanted. She's my growing decay. The reason for my utter ruin. She's my fucking soulmate.

"What – what are you doing here?" The sound of her voice jolts me to existence. When did she wake up? She sits up abruptly, leaning against her hand, and cringing, bringing it back to her chest.

"Don't put weight on it." I mutter anxiously, reaching for the hand, but she scoots away from me. Her eyes are wildly cautious, defensive.

"What are you doing here?" She demands.

"I came to see you." I state obviously. She looks unconvinced, or uncertain. I'm not sure which of the two, but either one isn't exactly encouraging. My self esteem has already spiraled down ever since she moved away from me.

"But I left you." She whispers confused.

"I know. I've done a lot of thinking," I say with a sad smile, taking a seat on the edge of her bed.

"I _left_ you." She emphasizes.

"And – wait hold up," I stop midsentence, to rise from my seat and hurriedly grab toilet paper from the bathroom. Careful not to touch any of the broken glass, I wet the paper, and sit back down in my seat. "Come here." I gesture towards her, with the soaked toilet paper. "It's just… you kind of look like the joker with your messed up make up."

Kairi blinks at me, perplexed. I sigh, before taking the initiative to reach out and clean her face, but she snatches the towel away from me.

I stare at her intensely, as she wipes and dabs around her lips, frustrated.

"I see you tried to break the mirror." I try to say conversationally. She doesn't respond. "So, um, what did they do to your hand?"

She pauses in her ministrations.

"A few stitches. I damaged a few of the nerves though."

"It must hurt," I offer.

She nods her head. Something is off about her. Not in the full 360 slut freakout like before, it's more of some kind of internal thing. It makes me uneasy.

She sighs softly, continuing her work.

"I really don't think you should be here, Roxas." Kairi murmurs quietly. I don't respond at first. I'm still a little confused as to why she isn't relieved or fucking grateful that I even showed up to see her after she dumped me.

"I've decided that I forgive you," I finally say, as she starts on her cheeks. She stops mid-wipe to glare at me with bulging eyes.

"_Why_?"

"Because I love you."

Kairi shakes her head, dropping the toilet paper in her lap. After what feels like hours, she glances at me with some kind of unreadable expression. It's unreadable, but it leaves me stunned.

"Just, go home." She mumbles, looking away from me.

My throat tightens painfully.

"What?"

"Just go home." She repeats, this time more loudly.

What the hell is happening? This isn't supposed to be happening. I'm supposed to swoop in and – and fucking sweep her off her feet. We're supposed to get over this fighting. We're supposed to be together now.

My head spins in circles, my eyes are burning, and this ridiculous, and haphazard amount of outrage electrifies my body. It's humming with indignation. It flares against my mind, reminding me of that time I beat the crap out of that Riku guy.

I'm furious, I don't even know what I'm yelling at her, but she looks scared, and she's crying. I don't even know what she's saying. I don't even care. I want to rip her fucking throat out. I want her to – to just –

What is she even doing?

"_Don't look down. Just keep your eyes on her."_

Keep my eyes on her? How the fuck am I supposed to keep my eyes on her when she's not even looking at me?

It's so close, so fucking close to hate, that I think I just may _hate_ her.

.

.

.

_.  
><em>

_.  
><em>

_Kairi_

.

The day I return to school, with a bandaged hand, and in my normal attire, I can literally feel a spotlight on me. It's irritating and embarrassing. What's even more unnerving is the way my old friends seem to look at me with revulsion.

Have I permanently marked myself as a horrible person? Have I already been branded as a the school's slut?

Chagrined, I realize that I probably am called that behind my back.

Roxas most certainly thinks so. With a frown, I remember the last conversation I had with him, which turned to become more of an argument. When he had come in to my room that day, to say I was shocked would have been an understatement. I was thrown off – completely. I didn't expect him to try to seek me out the day after I walked out on him. It wasn't _Roxas_.

It ended horribly. He called me every name in the entire book, and I just sat there demanding him to leave. It wasn't until my parents heard the commotion upstairs, and forcibly had to remove the blond from my room.

Maybe it was stupid of me to reject his forgiveness.

I sigh, toying with my uneaten lunch. The incessant whispering of nearby tables encroaches my thoughts.

"She makes money off of making pornos."

"Yeah, Sora totally told me she caught some rare S.T.D. So gross right?"

"I heard she was pregnant"

I force myself to glare down at the table. I force myself to ignore everything.

Soon the eyes and voices of the cafeteria becomes too much. As quietly as I can, I try to subtly walk through the doors. It isn't subtle, not in the slightest. I can feel every single person's eyes on me, as I stumble out the doorway.

My hand is aching by the time I'm in the hallway. I had forgotten about it when I barreled my way out. I groan softly, gingerly cradling my hand against my chest, as I trip over my feet, dizzied by the pain.

I nearly walk around the corner, when the janitor's closet ahead bursts open. Out stumbles a giggling, flushed brunette. It takes me moment before I recognize her as Olette from my government class. I watch as she rights herself, combing her fingers quickly through her hair. She casts a quick glance around, overlooking me as I hurriedly dive for the nearest locker. She straightens out her skirt.

What a slut.

_And what were _you_ a few days ago?_

Good point.

"All clear." She giggles in a hushed whisper. Definitely a slut. I roll my eyes, moving my hand away from my chest, to press myself against the locker. My eyes peer into the closet, and out steps Roxas Strife.

His hair is carelessly untidy, shirt is wrinkled, and his fingers fumble to refasten his belt. There's a light flush on his face, but other than that he reeks of calm, cool, and collected.

"We still on for after school?" He mutters. It's more of statement.

My face prickles with an unrelenting heat, when Olette grins up at him dirtily. It unnerves me. My stomach does uncomfortable somersaults, when I see him return the smile. I lean back against the locker, forgetting my hand and squishing it harshly. I let out a pained growl, and then Roxas's eyes are mine in an instant.

He looks horrified for a moment, and then uncertain, and then pleasantly surprised. For the first time in what has felt like forever, popsicle Kairi comes back full force. I'm rooted to the spot, frozen in the stare-down with him. His cold blue eyes sweep in my appearance. Olette still hasn't noticed me, which I find a little confusing since it's obvious Roxas is staring.

He then suddenly reaches for her, tugging her silly form against his. His large, marble hands roam around her body wantonly. His fingers reach under her skirt, pulling her roughly against him. And the stupid girl squeals pathetically, but the sound is practically drowned out by his unwavering stare. His blue eyes narrow dangerously, as he leans down bringing his face to hers, all the while holding my gaze.

The icy chill intensifies grappling my heart, frosting it as if I were stuffed in the freezer. And yet, I can't tear my eyes away from him. I can't look away from the way he's almost theatrically throwing himself at the brunette. I can't avert my eyes from the threatening flash in his angry eyes.

I know what he's doing. He's punishing me. He's chastising me for my behavior from the morning after – the morning I left him alone. He's showing me that I can never get away with something like that. I can never evenly plot my revenge on him. I can never get away with breaking Roxas Strife's heart.

His lips are at her ear, sucking lecherously. Drawing me in, breaking any of the will power I've almost recovered.

I don't even know what feeling is stronger, the amount of agony that billows in my chest, or the bubbling anger that's waiting to lash out from my veins.

It's never going to end – this cat and mouse chase. It's a neverending cycle that neither of us are willing to break. Why aren't we willing to break it? Is it sick masochism? Is it that painful egotistical pride at getting back at the other? Or is it that pathetic hope we're desperately trying to cling to? That hope that despite all of this shit, we're still going to work out. That at the end of the day everything is going to be peaches and roses.

.

.

When I get home, Naminé is waiting for me on my porch steps. I step out of the car, and walk towards the blonde, who has risen from her seat on the steps.

"How's your hand?" She asks before I can utter out any type of greeting. I stare down at the bandaged appendage with a grimace.

"It's okay."

The blonde nods her head, accepting my answer. Her blue eyes fall on me with that familiar studying gaze. A ridiculous sense of relief rushes through me when her eyes scrutinize me. It almost feels like greeting a close, long lost relative.

I know she's reading me now. Like she did the last time I saw her. Like how she used to do. Her lips twitch into a frown as she fully takes in my appearance. I can see her observing my clothes. Her right eyebrow cocks upwards, looking almost skeptical.

"You're going to talk to him, aren't you?" the question isn't necessary. She knows as well as I do what I'm thinking. I nod my head, sitting on the steps.

She sighs softly through her nose, taking a seat beside me.

"I've been to see him," Naminé hesitates. "He looks a lot like you – _not well_."

I glance over towards the stoic blonde, and almost gasp at the conflicted expression on her face. It looks like she's struggling to say something.

"I've seen him too." I interrupt her. Her eyes widen, surprised no less. She blinks confusedly, before tilting her head to the side, prompting me to continue. I pause, trying to find the words that I don't even know how to search for. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" She probes.

"He was with a girl."I say finally, staring blankly at the floor. I feel her steady gaze on me. I can feel the question, before she even has to say it. "And…I just don't know."

"Why do you say that?"

I sigh, taking in a deep breath afterwards, preparing myself to let everything out.

"I don't even know what I'm feeling at this point. Every time I see him, or even think of Roxas I just don't know where all of my feelings went. Did they just disappear? I'm confused and hurt, and it all just doesn't make any sense. Had I just imagined all of these feelings?"

Naminé gazes at me sadly. Her lips are turned into a frown, and her eyes are disheartened. I don't know what it is in her expression that makes it seems like she knows exactly what's going. Like she knows exactly what I'm feeling, and exactly where it's going to lead. She turns away from me, staring down at her shoes.

"I think," she stops, to breathe in a quivering breath. "Feelings never go away. I mean you can't just make them disappear into thin air, or make them fade away. Feelings between two people are always existent, indifference, love, hate, there will always be something between people. The real question is what they _change_ into."

I listen to her, mulling the idea in my head. It's quiet for a long stretch of time. Immediately a chill falls over me, as the next question burns into my head. A question that makes me sick to even think about.

"Is it ever possible to fall out of love with the love of your life?" I ask vulnerably.

Naminé refuses to look at me, which I notice anxiously. She sighs deeply.

"I don't know what to say to that." She admits wearily. Silence falls over us again, and then Naminé bolts upward suddenly. "I should talk to Roxas – _we_ should talk to him."

"Maybe you should to let us fix our own problems." I state. She snorts, and I abruptly turn to face her, shocked by the sound. She shoots me a flat look.

"I did. Look where that led to," she says sarcastically. I smile, letting out a small chuckle, and then Naminé joins me until we're in bouts of laughter. I'm the first to sober.

"You're right," I admit, wiping my eyes. I look at her. She returns the stare thoughtfully, silently telling me to go on. "You leaving really fucked us up. Things just got -"

"Fucked up?" She supplies helpfully.

Another round of laughter escapes my lips, as I nod my head. "Yes." I agree.

Naminé nods as well, turning her attention towards the car parked in the driveway. Her thoughtful expression remains on her face. Emotionless. A complete poker face. It's quiet for a few moments before Naminé sighs.

"I really hate that car." She murmurs out of nowhere. A flash of something like annoyance and disgust flickers through her eyes as she glares at the innocent BMW. I don't understand it. I think back to the night when I first saw it. She was staring at it with the same contempt and dislike as she was now. I then remembered her saying something about her dad, which was a complete mystery to me.

Did she not like her father? Why was he in Radiant Gardens? Were her parents separated?

With chagrin, I realize I never really bothered to ask these questions – well to ask questions in general.

"I'm sorry about leaving," she interrupts my thoughts. "It was a mistake, and I promise I won't do anything that _irrational_ again."

Who the hell was Naminé, and why did she waste her time with two fuck ups like Roxas and I?

.

.

It seems like some sort of sick déjà vu that I end up at the same house as I did as that night. The night of my epic blunder. The night I stupidly confessed my feelings to a half drunk Roxas. It seems like some cruel twist of fate that I find myself sitting on the same couch, with the same type of drink as last time. It's ironic that I pretend to drink it, while watching my some random girl grinding against my _best friend_. The only difference really is that I'm not invisible anymore. I'm not sure if it's a good thing. Especially if the kind of attention I'm getting is from horny, drunk boys with no consideration to personal space.

I sigh, rising from my seat and head for the door. I tried.

When I say tried, I tried talking to him. That's why I'm even at this stupid party.

My initial plan was to find him here, whisk him away from the numerous girls he was bound to be surrounded by, and have him listen to what I have to say. When I got here, however, I felt the fear drown me, and I opted to staring at him from the same lumpy old couch. Chicken shit, remember?

The cold chill bites at my cheeks when I open the front door, drowning out the techno music. My breath comes out in visible puffs, as I make my way towards the steps. Carefully, I place my hand inside my pocket, while taking a small sip of the bottle in my other hand.

Perhaps this was a bad idea. Perhaps I was going about this the wrong way. Perhaps –

"Kairi."

I recognize the voice before I even have to turn around and look at him. His expression is a mixture of anger, and hurt.

"Roxas." I return the greeting. His eyes narrow.

"Why are you here?" He spits at me. I flinch. I struggle to find a suitable answer, but before I can come up with one, he takes two strides, closing the gap between us, and snatching the bottle from my hand. "This is the _last_ thing you should be doing."

"I was hoping for a conversation."

He glares at me scathingly.

"You want to talk to me _now_? You've got to be kidding me."

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened-"

"You kicked me out after I told you I loved you." He deadpans.

I look away from him guiltily.

"I know, I know, that's why I want – I'm asking for your cooperation now." I plead.

His eyes harden coldly. He regards me with a detached aloof expression. I don't buy it at all. I know, inside, he's probably running around like a headless chicken, because I totally am.

He raises an eyebrow, silently telling me to hurry up. I chew my lip nervously. He takes an impatient swig of the bottle.

"I'm sorry that all of this happened Roxas," I begin. "I realize that we both acted selfishly. And I just want all of this to be over already. I hate this – I hate what happened to us. I don't even know how it got out of hand, this back and forth tennis match. Was it even worth it?"

Roxas's narrowed eyes widen slightly, and I can see the cogs working inside his head.

"Wait, what-"

"Maybe, I think, we'd just be better off apart. Maybe we just need to go our separate ways."

Once that leaves my mouth, I swear the whole atmosphere drops. No, it plummets terribly.

Blue eyes look at me accusingly, filled with that gut wrenching agony. I caused it. My throat tightens angrily, as I try to fight the warm stinging tears forming and blurring over my sight.

Roxas's image is hazy. I sniffle soundly, reaching up to wipe my eyes with the cuff of my sweater.

My lips tremble weakly as I try to smile. It's strained and I know he recognizes it because his expression shifts suddenly to desperation. His blue eyes glow in the moonlight. They're dark, but the glare makes them seem like a black lake reflecting the moon. It's hypnotizing.

I reach forward, brushing my fingertips tenderly along the side of his face. It's then that I feel the moisture beneath his shining eyes. I feel my throat dry.

"You want me to do something that I just – I just can't do." He says in a low voice. My hand rests against his face, fingers brushing his wet eye. I sigh, moving my other hand to hold his trembling face entirely.

His cheeks are warm against my cold hands. His frown deepens making his glowing face turn dark in an instant. His hands shove mine away harshly.

"Why can't we just move on from this already? Let's just forget about it. It never happened!"

"It did happen." I stress. "You can't just brush everything between us beneath a carpet."

"Fine! Let's just start over." He says imploringly. The rough hands that pushed me away moments before, are grasping around the wooden floorboards, looking for my own. "Kairi, I can fix this."

I sigh sadly, turning in my seat to face the walkway. The setting is so agonizingly familiar, it's ridiculous. It almost seems like some kind of dream. It seems like some kind of alternate universe. It seems like a bitch slap to the face.

"I can't. I just can't."

I hear him make a growl.

"God, just stop being so selfish!" He snaps, rising from his seat all of sudden. The wooden steps creak under his weight as he walks down until his feet are firmly planted on the cement of the walkway. He whips around. His glowing blue eyes burn furiously, burning holes into my face with accusation. "Is this just another _fuck you Roxas_, because it's really-"

"No. It's not. I'm not here to _one up_ you. I'm doing this for the both of us."

"What the – what does that even mean? I love you, you love me, so why are you making things so fucking _complicated_?"

"Because it _is_ complicated, Roxas!" My voice rises, along with my body. The steps creak as I make to follow the blond, but he takes a wary step back. His gaze is cautious and chilling, as he regards me. It reminds me of a frightened wild animal. I let out another sigh, and stop, rubbing my forehead impatiently.

"You're complicating it yourself Kairi." Roxas cries out beseechingly, closing the gap between us in less than a second. His cold hands find the warmth of my neck, cupping it softly, bringing me closer to him. I feel the warmth radiating off him, just mere inches away. My chest instantly aches with longing, and something else not quite as strong but still present – _spite_.

It really is a deteriorating image, a deteriorating feeling, the feeling of being in his arms. It's simultaneously hot and cold. It's beautiful and repulsive. It's desired and abhorred at the same time. My stomach lurches into a large unmanageable knot. I feel my throat clog like a sewer line.

"Just be with me. I want you – I want _everything_." He breathes hotly into my ear. "Don't you want me too?"

I'm at a complete and perpetual loss. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to feel. I'm lost at a crossroad between loving him, hating him, and being indifferent. And no matter what direction I try to take, that horrible sense of wrongness drips through my veins like a poisoned IV.

I swallow thickly, forcing the lump down my throat, and pushing myself away from his body. I feel his eyes branding me with betrayal. My own eyes water and I quickly stare down at my boots.

He scoffs loudly. "So what, now you're going back to fucking my brother?"

I flinch, shrinking away from his venomous tone. I feel the back of my boots hit the bottom of the stairs, and I almost topple backwards, but I hold my balance.

"I didn't mean to hurt him." I whisper dejectedly. I hear him sigh. "I didn't mean to hurt you either."

"Fine," he relents gruffly. I wipe at my eyes hastily, and glance back at him. After a few torturously icy moments, Roxas turns away. He moves away from my line of sight, back towards the steps, and leans against the railing. My eyes trail him. He crosses his arms over his chest, gaze strictly down at the ground. "Fine Kairi. You don't like Sora. Then what is it? Why are you _still_ running away from me?"

I hesitate.

"Tell me!" Roxas loses his cool again, uncrossing his arms and advancing towards me. I step away, but his hands grip my arms roughly, keeping me in place. His enraged face is close to mine – demanding, provoking me into a fight.

My eyes flicker to the closed front door. I vaguely hear the beat of the music and the loud cheering/laughing/partying going on inside the house. Anyone could've peeked through the window, anybody could've walked out the front door.

"Look at me! Why are you-"

"You broke my heart!" I stammer out, stomping on his foot harshly. He released my arms and howled in pain. "You broke my heart! _Okay_? I gave it to you, with all the trust I could ever hand out, and you just ripped it to shreds at the first opportunity you had, like everything that's ever handed to you-"

"You broke my heart first." Roxas snarls. "Don't go and try to play the innocent fucking Mary-sue. If you didn't go and fuck everything up with your ridiculous get up and attitude, none of this would've happened. If you would've just-"

"-let you hurt me again?"

"You did this to yourself. I would have left you alone. I would've." Roxas says nastily. I shake my head, my mind jumbling around with each turn. I feel the teary sting building in my eyes. The prickle in my nasal canal, symptoms of a pre-sob. My hand trembles, as I reach up to bury my face in my hand, as Roxas continues on. "And if you wouldn't try to always be one step ahead of me, then maybe it might've worked out a long time ago."

I let out a derisive, teary laugh.

"Is this all what we are? Just a bunch of mind games, and pointing blaming, accusing fingers?" I question incredulously, another humorless chuckle peeling from my lips, sounding downright maniacal. "I don't want to do _this_ anymore." I exclaim, gesturing between us. "I don't want to _get even_ with you. This isn't about revenge, or being petty, or patching up my hurt ego. _I'm swallowing my pride_, and telling you how I really feel. I'm done, Roxas. You were right, I'm too tired to continue this. And I'm not running away from you, not anymore. I'm here, and I'm telling you that I don't want to be in a relationship with you. These feelings I have for you… they're just not the same."

"What are you saying?" He interrogates sharply.

"I just don't feel _it_ anymore." I say. "It's not the same. I can't be with you the way you want me to."

Roxas's eyes narrow painfully. His lips twist into an anguished frown, before opening. Something that sounds similar to a weak groan rolls out of his mouth, and then he mashes his lips together.

"What you're saying doesn't even – it doesn't – Kairi it'll never work. I don't want to be your fucking friend. We can never be friends. There's just too much here, between us. There's too much feeling, too much attraction, too much of everything. We can't be _friends_."

"I didn't say I wanted to be your friend either." I whisper, before he can get anything in word wise.

"Then what – what are you really saying, Kairi?" He asks, sounding irrevocably broken at this moment. He swallows thickly – it's a strange clogged gulp that sounds more like a choke. I feel my chest tighten, and my stomach plummet into a pool of misery. An unending pool of tar.

I look away, staring down at the splintered steps.

"Kairi, what the _fuck_ are you saying?" He demands, clutching my shoulder, and forcing me to turn and look at him.

"I do love you, but it – it just isn't enough." I mumble. "I don't want another repeat of what happened. I've been dealing with all of this the wrong way. I shouldn't have been questioning your character; I should've been questioning myself. If I can't handle being hurt by you, then what am I? What kind of person am I to be so – so heavily influenced by someone like you?"

"No, no! You can't just say that, Kairi. We're in too fucking deep for you to say that. You told me you love me." He counters, puzzled and angrier at his puzzlement.

"I do," I agree solemnly. "That's why I'm saying goodbye. If something were to happen between us I – I don't want to be in that place I was in. And I don't trust myself to be with you, at least not now."

"I'm not going to hurt you; I promised I wouldn't hurt you ever again." He speaks softly.

I glare down at my boots again briefly, and then the glare flickers back to the blond. His expression is a combination of bewilderment, thoughtfulness, and an aching realization.

"You don't trust me." Roxas finally says. It's a statement. I'm silent. I don't even have to deny or agree to it because he already knows the answer.

How can I trust you, I think, how can you trust me?

"So much has happened that it just puts me in a position where I can't see us together. I just can't. I can't force myself to feel the same things I felt for you before. And I don't want to resent you for it." I say gently.

He's quiet. It's a smoldering type of quiet. I anticipate another outburst. I expect more accusations, threats, pleading. I welcome it because nothing is really going to change my decision in the matter. I've made it, and nothing is going to deter it, not even the love of my life.

I hear his footsteps, heavy against the cement, as he walks back to me. A sigh leaves his mouth. It sounds defeated.

"You're giving up, after everything, everything that's happened." He mutters sadly, and I'm immediately hurt by his statement. I glance upward to his expression. It's rueful, and I can see his eyes glow with a newfound resentment. My stomach rolls pitifully. My eyes sting again with a fresh oncoming of tears. My lungs constrict, and I choke back a gasp when I try to sigh.

"Roxas," I cry out, affronted, _insulted_, really. "I'm not giving up."

Before he has a chance to step away from me, my hands clutch at the material of his shirt tightly. I hold on, mostly for my sanity. He's one step away from knocking me off the peak again. I'm almost at my brink. He's the one pushing me, shoving me, throwing me off, and I don't want to do it anymore. I don't want to fight. I don't want to continue to stab my knife through his back while struggling to pry his off of mine.

My hands loosen around his shirt, moving slowly towards his neck, and then finally holding his face. He stares down at me vulnerably. His eyes are completely open, scared, terrified. It reminds me of the boy who held my hand in the hospital years ago. The same boy who was sweet, and brought me cupcakes when it was the time of month. The very same boy who, I now realize, shyly gave me the tiger won at the carnival.

Maybe I had loved him my whole life. And maybe I was going about this falling in love thing the wrong way. Maybe I was just falling in love with the parts I liked about him. And when I had a taste of a different side – the many different sides of the Calvin Kline model, it overwhelmed me.

His eyes are soft, bare and open, completely letting me see everything. I feel his hands gingerly, reciprocating my movements. His fingertips brush against my cheeks reverently.

Maybe it was because I couldn't accept the change he underwent. Maybe it was because he loved me despite all of my flaws, and after one mistake I could never look at him the same. Or perhaps it was because I could only see this love from a present view, from what I was feeling at that instant, when Roxas was looking at it in a long term view.

"I just need time." I finally say. Time to recover , to find balance, to find myself. Time to love him unconditionally, unadulterated, and unspoiled as I did before.

He squints at me, and averts his eyes that have been watering considerably during my internal ramble. Red rims are formed underneath his vibrant blue eyes when they return to my face.

I reach forward, standing on my toes, and bring his face down to rest my forehead against his. He lets out a shaky breath that beats against my mouth, feeling more like an icy keepsake.

"I don't – I don't know if I can wait for you again." He whispers thickly. I can practically hear his throat clogging, matching my swelling throat equally.

I choke against the obstruction in my throat. My breathing is heavy and uneven. I tremble against his face, as I try to silently hold back the sob that's just pleading to burst out.

"I – I understand."

I settle back down on the flat of my feet. My face brushes against the side of his. He sniffles loudly in my ear, and it makes me quiver. His hands have moved, one planted on the back of my head, fingers running softly through my hair, and the other on my waist, arm encircled around me.

I can feel him shaking against me, I can feel his shuddering breath against my ear.

I try to hold on as much as I can to this moment. This one single moment that will be the teetering end of whatever it was we had. It's heartbreaking, it's horrible and redeeming at the same time. I feel a sense of desperation as I cling to him, as I try to memorize the round, solid feel of his lean shoulders, as I try to retain the way his face feels against mine, the stubble free smoothness of his angular jaw. It's a terrifying desperation that grips, and plucks at my heartstrings. Yet it's one of the most liberating feelings ever. A sense of relief washes over me. This is it. This is the end of feeling trapped. The end of desiring something out of reach, of letting that desire overrule me, suffocate and smother me.

_After this moment everything will change. Everything between us is going to be different._

In the back of my mind I laugh bitterly.

Things have been changing ever since that night at the stupid party, on this very same porch.

His arms around me loosen, as he pulls back slightly to look down at me.

Swollen blue eyes stare down me beseechingly. His fingers reach up to trace my lips.

"Can I?"

I sniffle, wipe my eyes and nod. His expression is melancholic as he leans down and presses his lips to mine. It's bittersweet. Achingly bittersweet that I don't know what to do for a moment. I'm frozen when he begins to part his lips, and move around mine lovingly.

The taste of is familiar, yet it's a new feel. The smoothness of his lips seems different. The way he moves them is almost foreign.

He nibbles my lip, awakening my senses immediately. The cold ice spell that fell over my mouth melts, and I begin to mirror the pace of his lips. My fingers stroke the sides of his smooth, wet face, brushing against his dark blond hair. My heart is aching in that torn way, that agonizingly unpleasant way that leaves me wholeheartedly _pleasant_. His hands are now warm this time, when they gingerly touch my shoulders

Reassuring fingers trace around my collarbone, before wrapping around my neck in a chokehold.

Roxas's soft lips pry mine open in one gentle move, a sweet, kind move that seems more like a polite request. His tongue is hot and wet and slippery as he drags it slowly around my teeth. It provokes me tenderly, guiding me in a soft battle of dominance. His fingers tighten around my neck, before trailing back down to my shoulders. A respectful position, a _chivalrous_ position.

His lips close around my bottom one, leaving my mouth entirely. I whimper in protest, desperate to cling to this moment. Roxas sighs against my mouth heatedly. The warmth of his breath makes my numb lips buzz with anticipation.

In the back of my mind, I ponder the idea of this happening that one night at the party that started this whole mess. If this had happened. If this had been my first kiss. It sure felt like a first kiss. Perhaps this is the beginning, and what happened back then was just an event that was misplaced in our timeline. Maybe we're in some kind of alternate universe, and all of our past, present, and future memories were in a jumbled, mixed ordered mess.

Roxas kisses me again calling my attention back. It's all lips. Lips parting, lips sliding against each other, lips sucking. And then he moves away, opting to rest his forehead against mine.

I open my eyes to find his closed.

"I never want to say goodbye to you." He whispers vulnerably. I feel his fingers dig into my shoulders. I nuzzle my nose against his comfortingly.

"Not goodbye, just _see you later_."

It's going to be okay. I try to silently give that message to him when he opens his eyes to sadly look at me.

We part. His eyes are completely dry by now. They just look a little red. He studies me for a good minute, eyes looking up and down. Then he turns back to the stairs. Roxas bends down to pick up his abandoned beer bottle. He climbs the rest of the steps, in the direction of the front door. I take that as a cue to make my way home, but he stops mid-step and calls out to me. I turn around slowly, looking up at the sight of him.

His eyes glow, looking black in the moonlight, leaving a sharp contrast to his pale skin. His honey blond hair shines, as he runs his other hand through his hair. His lips twitch into a patronizing smile, _condescending_, however, my mind registers it as playful.

He takes a gulp of his bottle, making a satisfied _ahhh_ sound.

"You're not being all un-Kairi anymore." He smirks. "It looks good on you _Cherry_."

He winks, and I can't help but smile back. And then he ambles his way back into the house. The sound of that techno shit bombards me briefly, before he shuts the door behind him, leaving me on the porch alone.

I stare at the door, and I'm okay. I'm fine. I'm going to survive and it feels good.

With a sad smile, I turn and make my way towards the Toyota. I shut the door, start the engine and head home.

It's not over, it's never over when Roxas is in the matter. And we are Roxas and Kairi. This isn't the end not in the slightest. Our love may be buried beneath all the crap we've caused. It may be borderline unhealthy. It may even seem impossible, but it exists, despite how small in comparison it seems to everything else. Despite how thin it is, how much it's been thinning out, it'll never go away. It'll shrink but it'll still be there, even if you might need a magnifying glass to see it. It's existent, and that's enough for me.

This is our _skinny love_, and I'm content.

.

.

The End.

* * *

><p>.<p>

.  
><strong>And that's a wrap! You have no idea how emotionally drained I felt after writing that last scene. Bleh, and it still turned out lame. Anyway, I'm so thankful for all the people taking the time to read this story. I must atone for my late updates. Any ideas how? Lol. Reviews are love.<br>**

**And, as always, the song this story is based on is "Skinny Love" by Bon Iver.  
><strong>

**Thank you, very much! TA-PK signing out.  
><strong>


End file.
